


The Fury of the Beasts

by Not_So_Dark_One



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Daenerys Targaryen, BAMF Jaime Lannister, BAMF Jon Snow, BAMF Lyanna Stark, BAMF Ned Stark, Badass Cersei Lannister, Bisexual Yara Greyjoy, Canon Divergence - Robert's Rebellion, Cersei/Ned and Jon/Dany main ships, Cunning Ned Stark, Daenerys Targaryen Deserves Better, Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, Dragons, Eventual Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Cersei Lannister, His name is Daeron, House Lannister, House Stark, House Targaryen, Independent North (ASoIaF), Jon Snow Deserves Better, Jon Snow Knows Something, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, King Ned Stark, King in the North Ned Stark, Lyanna Stark Lives, Married Cersei Lannister/Ned Stark, Ned Stark Lives, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character, POV Lyanna Stark, POV Ned Stark, Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Powerful North, Protective Jaime Lannister, R Plus L Equals J, Robb Stark is Jon Arryn's son, Robert's Rebellion, Romantic Fluff, Sansa is Jon Arryn's daughter, Stark-Lannister-Targaryen alliance, Tyrion Lannister is a Good Sibling, Westerosi Politics, Work In Progress, later on, robin arryn is Robert Baratheon's son
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:42:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22409650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_So_Dark_One/pseuds/Not_So_Dark_One
Summary: When Ned Stark finally reaches the Tower of Joy, he finds his sister alive and well and having given birth to Prince Rhaegar. Finally learning the truth behind Lyanna's 'abduction', Ned vows to protect her, his nephew and the recently rescued from Dragonstone daughter of Aerys II. More than that - he vows to place his nephew on the Iron Throne and reshape Westeros in his own image. Crafting an elaborate lie, Ned secures Northern Independence from a devastated Robert Baratheon and makes an alliance with the infamous Tywin Lannister, whose sole demand is this - Ned make his old flame, the Old lion's daughter - Cersei, his queen.Lyanna gets to raise her child and sister-in-law in her home, nursing her broken heart.Follow the lives of the King in the North and his family as they play the Game of Thrones.The Pack stands tall and proud as they guard their dragons, waiting for the time to strike.Winter is Coming.....and the mightiest beasts of Westeros are out for blood!
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Ned Stark, Jon Arryn/Catelyn Tully Stark, Jon Snow & Lyanna Stark, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Lyanna Stark & Daenerys Targaryen, Lyanna Stark & Ned Stark, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen (past), Lynesse Hightower/Jaime Lannister, Lysa Tully Arryn/Petyr Baelish, Lysa Tully Arryn/Robert Baratheon, Melisandre of Asshai/Lyanna Stark
Comments: 215
Kudos: 660





	1. The Tower of Joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LegitmateDamage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegitmateDamage/gifts).



> This is a bit different from everything else I have written. A brand new idea. Basically we have Lyanna living, Jon growing up in Winterfell alongside Dany. And Cersei as Ned's bride instead of Catelyn. I am still setting up the story and Jon/Dany will start forming in a few chapters. Main ships are Jon/Dany (which as I said comes a few chapters later) and Ned/Cersei.  
> Tags may change depending on my ideas.

Dorne was not for Northerners. This is the conclusion to which Ned Stark came after spending a day roaming the Red mountains. He felt like a fish out of water, but his discomfort mattered little. He put it all at the back of his head. Robert strangling Elia Martell in his rage, killing her children. Sacking the King's Landing. The screams of the women who were raped by the soldiers, some of whom to his shame were his own men. He had punished the two men whom he spotted killing a baker and raping his wife. But did it bring him any peace?

No.

Father is dead. Brandon is dead. 

No amount of innocent blood will ever fix that. Not really. Sure, it will bring some temporary satisfaction to him, but it was nothing. A fleeting breaking of the chains, holding back the wolf's fury. 

_I have to save Lyanna. I have to._ It was the last thing he had to do and he prayed to the Old Gods he worshipped and the ridiculous Seven Gods he loathed that Lyanna would be alive and well. What has she gone through, he would soon have to find out. 

Ned and his companions had been roaming the Red Mountains, looking for a nameless tower, which nobody remembers who built or why. That place was rumored to be where Rhaegar took Lyanna to and Ned had finally found it. "There.", he pointed towards it. "That must be it." Before them stood a small red tower with but a single window. What was far more impressive were the three guards who prevented their entry. Ned had seen them once at Harrenhal and their silver armors with the three headed dragon of the Targaryens was a clear indication of who they were.

Ser Gerold Hightower, The white bull, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

Ser Oswell Whent, knight of the Kingsguard.

And of course Ser Arthur Dayne, knight of the Kingsguard and Sword of the Morning.

"Good day, my lords. I am afraid that you will have to leave. None is allowed inside.", Oswell Whent said. "Our Prince had bid us so."

"Rhaegar's dead.", Ned spoke. "Robert killed him at the Trident. Jaime Lannister killed Aerys. Where were you?"

"Here, my Lord of Stark. Elsewise Aerys would still live, our false brother would be dead and your friend the Usurper would have been cut to pieces at the Trident."

"Stag meat to feed the dragons.", Ser Oswell japed.

"Enough.", the stoic Ser Gerold shouted. Before he could speak further a scream was heard. A woman's scream. The white bull looked up to the small window and said. "It has started."

"What has?", Ned shouted. "What has Rhaegar done to my sister?"

"A few things you will do to your own wife one day too, Stark.", Ser Oswell said but his words made no sense to Ned. 

"What you are hearing is the Princess of Dragonstone giving birth to the future king or queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I would think that you would want to be present, yes?" 

Ned's mouth stood gaping and even without turning towards any of his friends he knew that he was not the only one. Ser Arthur opened the doors of the tower and Ned and his men entered.

The next couple of days were spent in worry. Lyanna had a difficult birth. Not deadly, but she was all red and exhausted after it and she had been unconscious for all but her naming the raven-haired boy with deep purple eyes. "Daeron,", she had said "the Third of His Name." before succumbing to sleep. Ned and his friends had decided to stay in the tower until they decided otherwise and opted to go outside. As Ned held the child, he couldn't help but feel like a fool. Like the biggest fool in the world. _How could I not have noticed at Harrenhal?_ Ned who prided himself on his intelligence and cunning reached the only logical conclusion.

It's name was Cersei Lannister. The golden lady he was entranced with. Alas, not to be his. She was the daughter of the mighty lord Lannister and he but a second son. Even though his father could carve out a place in the North for him and help him built a holdfast to his name, he would not have been good enough for her. Eddard had spent so long around Robert and his countless women, but he never felt the urge for any of them. Until the first day of that fated tourney. By the second he had managed to gather the courage to talk to her, or rather his brother had done it but the lady didn't mind. By the fourth, they had been chatting leisurely about their childhoods, while sharing chaste kisses. Along with some not so chaste ones. By the sixth, they had shared words of affections, broken down by Tywin Lannister's not so polite saying of how he was unworthy of his daughter's hand. And the worst part was that he was right.

While all these turbulent emotions were roaming in his head and heart, ravaging both, he had failed to notice Lyanna. How she had fallen for the crown prince. Ned had tons of questions to ask her so she better wake up soon.

"I am so sorry Ned.", Lyanna muttered and drew the Lord of Winterfell from his thoughts. "Father and Brandon. They shouldn't have died. I..."

"What happened? How? Why?"

"I am better now. Let me dress. I will explain everything. But I need to get out of this damn bed."

Ned and company left the tiny building and waited for her. After a few minutes, Lyanna Stark, flanked by the three Kingsguard knights, exited the tower and held Daeron in her arms.. She was no longer the woman, who barely survived the birthing bed. No, this was the sister he knew all his life - The She-Wolf of Winterfell. A look of determination in her eyes, she looked at them all. Her eyes fell upon Theo Wull, Ethan Glover, Martin Cassel, lord William Dustin, Ser Mark Ryswell, Holland Reed and finally himself. His sister spoke: "I imagine you have a lot of questions to ask, but first I need to confirm something. Ned, while at Riverrun, did you or father or Bran receive a letter from me?"

"A letter?", Ned was puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"As I suspected.", she muttered. "I wrote a letter for you all and left it to Bran's would be sister-in-law to give to you. I do not know why, but apparently she did not.", her voice seethed with hatred that he began to feel himself. "When I get my hands on that little bitch, I am going to rip her throat out through her teeth.", her loud voice made little Daeron cry but she calmed him down swiftly. 

"What truly happened, my lady?", asked Howland.

"I never wanted to marry Robert Baratheon. That whoremongering sot may have been like a brother to you Ned, but I would never marry someone who would dishonor me constantly. The night we first met at Harrenhal, do you remember?"

"Yes, he made a toast to you and professed his love?", Ned said. He knew of his friend's habits but always believed that Lya would have reigned him in. 

"That same night I followed him to a whorehouse in Harrentown where he said and I quote 'no marriage shall ever tame this man', right before he fucked two whores. That is the man whom you wanted to marry me, Ned. That is the man who, despite my fierce protests, father decided to marry me to. ", Ned's whole world shattered by her account. _How could I have been so blind?_ "And then I met Rhaegar. He and i....well you know how the silly songs that all these stupid girls like go. He and I fell in love."

"But the prince was married." Ned said. "It could not have..."

"Elia was dying, Ned. She was suffering complications from her last birth and the maesters claimed she would have died within the year. Elia told me herself, when she learned of my infatuation with him. She even encouraged us, she wanted him happy. So we made an arrangement. Rhaegar and I would elope and marry in secret as we did just after we left the Riverlands. It is not like he would have been the first man to have two wives. Not in his family and if you knew history as well as I do, you would know that before the Andals's silly gods came, the First Men did so as well on occasion. My letter explained everything and Robert would have been the only one to grumble about it. Instead....Brandon had to play the big hero and cause all this shit."

"Bran went to the Red Keep to save you.", Ned tried defending his brother, even though he knew that she was in the right.

"Bran was a fucking moron. Aerys was mad, the whole realm knew it. And even if he wasn't, what did he hope to accomplish? Get himself killed? He sure as shit did that. Elia is dead. Her poor children dead, murdered by that fucker. My husband is dead and now my child will have to grow up without a father.", she seethed and tears started to fall from her eyes. "My Rhaegar is dead." His friends and himself were torn between anger for all those northerners who died for her, thinking that she was in danger, and compassion for her. Ned was angry at himself, too. _Well done, Ned. You thought of him as a brother and now....Damn him. Damn you too Ned. You should have used that head of yours, but no you wanted to become true family with Robert._

"What do we do now, Lya? Robert will kill the boy and you too most like. Obviously, I will not let him do that, but we need a plan."

"Such as?", she asked and Ned started thinking. If was obvious what was the best bet.

"The realm is tired of war. Everyone but Dorne stands behind Robert. They hail him king now, the maesters even say that he has a right to the throne thanks to his Targaryen grandmother. As ironic as that is.", Ned chuckled. "We fake your death. There was no child, Rhaegar indeed kidnapped you and when I arrived you were already dead.", his men were shocked at how he was making such a scheme at the moment but he kept on. "I will sneak you into Winterfell. Make sure that the servants keep their mouths shut and you will stay out of the public eye, obviously."

"And you will let Rhaegar be branded a monster?", she snapped at him. He knew it was wrong. To hail a monster as a hero and a good man as a monster, but it had to be done. Robert was the king. For now. "What of Daeron? I am not abandoning him."

"He will come with us. I will say that he was a bastard of Brandon's. People will believe it."

"For once out late brother's promiscuity to come in handy.", she chuckled. "Then this is what we shall do. Let's go Ned."

"Except, we will be coming with you, my lady.", Ser Arthur spoke again. "We still have our orders and we are sworn to protect the king. With our prince dead, this means that the child in your sister's arms Lord Stark is Daeron of House Targaryen, The Third of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

"But my lord,", Lord William asked. "How would you explain their presence in the North to the Southerners? Surely people would be suspicious of the three of them inside your halls?"

"Funny thing about famous people, Lord Dustin. Everybody knows their names, but so few know what they actually look like. Luckily, Daeron is favoring his mother in coloring, so he would be easy to pass off as Brandon's. Lyanna nobody in the North would ever betray and the Kingsguard won't be so recognizable without their armor." _But I will have to do something else as well. And I will have only one shot at that. It is time that I started playing that accursed game of thrones._

* * *

He was riding for days, ever since he got to the coast. He was tired, truth be told. He was no longer as young as he once was. He had celebrated his fiftieth year just a few months before the war started. And here was he now, riding through enemy land. He had crossed the Stormlands and was taking the road towards the Red Mountains. It was there that their prince had ordered them to gather in case it was necessary. And alas it was. Prince Rhaegar was dead. King Aerys dead. Prince Viserys was killed by Stannis Baratheon and queen Rhaella died in childbirth. The little girl strapped to his chest was the only thing left of her. A beautiful little thing with silver curls and purple eyes. She reminded him of Prince Rhaegar, when the boy was a babe. Willem had seen him once, for the former master-at-arms of the Red Keep was in his post for two years before the prince had been born. He had to protect her, it was his duty. To guard Daenerys Targaryen, whom her mother called Stormborn, with his life. 

He finally got to the Red Mountains. And on the road he found something strange. 10 riders and a carriage - seven men he did not know and the three knights of the Kingsguard left to guard lady Lyanna. They were riding in the opposite direction. 

"Halt. Who goes there?", asked one of the strangers.

"This is Ser Willem Darry. He is the master-at-arms at the Red Keep.", said Ser Arthur. "What are you doing here, Ser? You were supposed to be on Dragonstone."

"Aye, I was. Until Stannis Baratheon did not sack the castle. Prince Viserys is dead and our queen died in childbirth. But this one survived.", he showed them the little princess. "Princess Daenerys Targaryen of Dragonstone."

A woman got off the carriage - Lyanna Stark, and she carried a baby in her arms. "I am glad to meet my good-sister then. I swear that we will protect her. This is her nephew, Daeron III Targaryen. Oh, where are my manners?! This is my brother Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell. He and his friends are with us. We have a little trick to play at the capital and afterwards we leave for the safety of the North. All of us. Including you, ser. I will not have that child grow alone and without family. She comes with us, Ned. I will hear no arguments on this.", she said the last bit sternly and ser Willem understood what Rhaegar loved about her so much.

"Alright. But how are we going to hide her identity from prying eyes? Those silver curls are rare on this side of the Narrow sea."

"We will paint her hair, we will think something out. Give her to me, Ser. Let the child sleep in the carriage, the roads are quite dusty and that is not good for her health.", Willem gave the little girl, however reluctantly, to what was apparently the queen mother and got back on his horse to ride alongside the carriage. He wanted to peek inside, to keep an eye on the girl he has been guarding with his life for days now, but there were curtains in the way. _She is safe now. That's all that matters. You will guard her for as long as your old bones can hold a sword._

"Why are we going to the capital, my lord?"

"I have to arrange a few things there. Robert needs to believe Lya is dead. And I have something else I need to do there.", Lord Stark answered. "You and the Kingsguards are going to continue North. I can't have you lot getting yourselves killed in the capital. Everybody knows you there."

"And why should we trust you, Lord Stark? You were fighting against us for months now.", the old knight asked.

"Because I finally learned the truth, but mostly....because I want to protect my little sister and her child and I will most definitely do that. No matter who stands in my way.", he rode in silence for a few moments and Willem noticed that the Kingsguard knights were listening intently to what Lord Stark was saying. "Robert was like a brother to me and....when we rose in rebellion, me right behind him every step of the way....I thought we were heroes and yet....when I saw him climb the steps of the Iron Throne on top of the corpses of Elia Martell and her children...when I saw him killing them all....sacking the city...him causing my little sister pain...him fooling me.......THERE WILL BE NO FORGIVENESS!", he seethed. 

And so they rode northwards - towards King's Landing.


	2. Crowns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned arrives in King's Landing; an ancient monarchy is reestablished and Tywin makes an offer Ned can't refuse.

They separated on the Kingsroad, when Ned ordered for the knights and some of his men to head directly North along with the carriage containing his sister, nephew and....sister-in-law. Gods, he travelled all the way to Dorne in order to rescue his sister and it his whole life got turned upside down. Now Ned had to protect two innocent children, whom his former best friend would love nothing more than to smash with his war hammer. It did not matter, for if he succeeded in his design, then they would be safe. That is all that mattered. That is why he was travelling to that stinking city.

When he marched through the city gates alongside Howland Reed, Martin Cassel and Theo Wull, he was met with what could only be described as foul. The streets were still littered with corpses still waiting to be buried. The Silent sisters were working their hardest to do so, but it did take time. The Targaryen banners were removed and now hung the black stag of House Baratheon. The streets were lined with soldiers bearing the black crowned stag, the trout and the moon-and-falcon. What's more he spotted the Lannister lion outside the gates, a whole camp filled with thousands of men. 

He was allowed entry inside the Red Keep and he headed straight to the throne room. On the way, he saw that all the Targaryen symbols were removed or broken. Ned thought that he would find the throne room packed with all the vultures having come to pledge to Robert, but he found only him, sitting at the steps of the Iron Throne. He watched it intently, but seemingly he noticed the doors open and Ned entering the great hall. "She is dead, isn't she?", Baratheon asked, but it was more a statement than a question.

Ned confirmed it silently. He often found that the best way to lie is to make yourself believe that you are telling the truth. And in this case, he imagined the reality that he dreamed of in his nightmares throughout the war - him finding Lyanna's corpse. 

"I think that we were fooling ourselves, Ned. Thinking that there was any chance for us to save her. I waged war for her, not for this iron monstrosity.", he spat at the Iron throne. "And now look at me.", he rose from the steps and turned towards Ned. "They hail me king. They say that I am the rightful king now. That I had some relation to the dragonspawn, some grandmother or whatever. They are even discussing my impending coronation."

"They? Who's they?", he had some idea, but he had to be sure.

"Hoster Tully, mostly. He had been saying how Lyanna was most likely dead ever since you left for the Red Mountains."

"Me not being here is the only reason he still lives then.", Ned grumbled.

"I wanted to strangle him the first time he said it, but...well...I knew it was most likely the truth.", he said. "Where is the body?"

"I brought not body, Robert. I cremated her. I could not possibly bring her....body all the way here.", he seemed to have presented enough emotions for Robert to mutter an 'I see'. "What happens now?"

"Jon said that there must be a king, but I will be damned if I ever let another filthy dragonspawn to draw breath. Stannis mocked it up at Dragonstone Island. He killed the boy Viserys, but his whore mother bred another whelp. Some knight managed to sneak it out of the castle and last we heard were heading to Essos." A diversion really. Ser Willem had told Ned that he had made certain that a single ship will flee east, while he took a sturdy boat and headed to the Stormlands to go to Dorne, figuring no one would look for a Targaryen there of all places. A clever ploy that apparently had worked. 

"So you will take the throne?"

"Aye. I have been thinking and I figured I might. I will make Jon my hand, because I will not make that slippery fish feel even more important. I am to marry his stupid daughter, after all." 

The first thing did not surprise Robert. Whoever was to be his hand would surely be the one to rule the kingdoms, for Robert could barely control the Stormlands. Half his bannermen rebelled against him when he started the Rebellion. The second statement surprised Ned however. He half-expected that it would have been Tywin Lannister to have urged him take Cersei. _My Cersei._ "Which one?"

"The younger I picked." _That bitch who caused it all._ Ned silently seethed. "Haven't met either of them really. And the elder one was betrothed to your brother so Hoster said that she ought to...."

"No.", Ned said firmly, getting out of character. "I am not. Tywin Lannister is here and if he is not marrying his daughter to you, then he has no cause to deny me this time."

"Good luck with that then. Here is me, complaining about being king, while you lost your father, brother and sister. How are you Ned?" He was his friend. Robert at least believed so. But Ned would be damned if he ever considered as a friend the man who wanted to kill members of his family. His question however opened the doors for Ned to play his hand. 

"I found a bastard of Brandon's on the road from Dorne. Some Riverwoman brought it to me. A boy I called Jon. I will raise him at Winterfell. But...I have been thinking you know. Of all the shit that the South threw at us. The North lost too much in the war and from what I have heard from my men, they no longer want to be part of the Seven Kingdoms anymore."

That was the riskiest part. Whatever happened now would determine if he could proceed with his plans. Ned desired kingship for two reason: 

One - he knew he would be good at it. He had grand ideas about the North, how to make it great and prosperous. But he needed power to do that. The power that only came from kingship. But unlike Robert, he was not willing to steal thrones from others.

Two - to raise his nephew in peace, he needed to isolate him from the politics of the south. The best way to do that was to separate The North from it. And he had not lied to him. The North was indeed tired of southern games. Or at least Ned Stark was.

"An Independent North....Sure, I suppose. Why not? I figured I will ditch the throne to you, but you seem to have made a contingency.", he roared his booming laughter. "Very well, let's announce it to these lordly lickspittles then. The beginning of the reigns of the king of the _six_ kingdoms and the King in the North. Long may we reign!" Robert laughed again as he summoned the lords.

The announcement was attended by the all lords present in the city, including 4 lords paramount. 5, if Ned Still counted himself - Jon Arryn of the Vale, Hoster Tully of the Riverlands, Tywin Lannister of the Westerlands and Mace Tyrell of the Reach. Everybody seemed to support Robert as king. Or at the very least, they did not oppose to it. When people are tired of war, they choose whatever will bring peace, after all. The second proclamation was taken a bit differently. Jon Umber, Rickard Karstark, Wyman Manderly and even the usually quiet but nonetheless creepy lord Roose Bolton raised their swords high and began chanting 'King in the North', just like the old stories said of the coronations of the Kings of Winter of old. Ned's heart surged with pride at that and for a moment he forgot the animosity he held for Robert.

The other lords were not so eager. Jon, who was like a father to him, did state loud and clear for all to hear that Ned would make an excellent king, but the new King in the North knew that the Lord of the Eyrie was not happy at the realm being divided thus. Mace Tyrell grumbled, but his animosity against Ned stemmed from the fact that it was Ned who broke the Siege of Storm's End. _As if it is my fault that the idiot did not manage to take the castle for a whole year. 100 000 men were there and my own forces a lot fewer and the Lord of Highgarden fell on one knee rather swiftly._ Hoster was visibly pleased, hoping that both his daughters would be queens. _Not that this is going to happen, but the less opposition at the moment the better._ Tywin Lannister on the other hand looked at him curiously, as if he was eyeing something odd and was wondering how to react.

Robert's booming proclamation silenced the little dissent there was however: "Silence! That's how it is. You lot want me as king, then you will obey me. That's it. Now shut up." A rather dull end to what was a rather straightforward speech, the kind that not even Northerners didn't do. His people were blunt, but Robert was in his own category. Nonetheless, that was it.

And thus Ned Stark became the first King in the North since Torrhen Stark. _Will have to check exactly how many Eddards were kings before me._ He thought. 

As Ned left the throne room, he got followed by the Lord of Casterly Rock. Having forgone his armor, he wore a crimson doublet and black leather pants. The man was in his early forties, if Ned remembered correctly, and was still as impressive as always. Serious too for that matter. "Your Grace.", he greeted him.

"Lord Tywin. I will still have to get used to that."

"I find most people love being called king. It would appear you are one of those as well."

"I just think that the North was tired from Southern schemes.", Ned countered.

"I would sympathize, knowing how annoying they could be. And yet it would appear that you are just getting started with the schemes yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"I will be to the point, your Grace. I came to King's Landing with an army, but I left scouts behind me, to stalk the roads in case of a threat. And imagine my surprise when they reported to me that they spotted a carriage heading north. A carriage guarded by some very famous knights. And I heard that tale about your bastard nephew, but I think that three Kingsguard knights wouldn't be guarding your brother's miscreant. Unless....", Ned's eyes widened. _Calm down, Ned. You would be in chains and in front of Robert, if he meant you harm._ "Relax Stark. I spent twenty years in the capital along with members of my household guard. That is how I recognized them. Besides, I have nothing to gain from sharing that particular secret, but tell me, what is it that you are planning?"

"You are a clever man, my lord. Surely you can imagine.", Ned decided to gamble. Southerners were attracted to scheming like bees to honey.

"Oh, I do. When Robert Baratheon's coronation is through though, that would be treason, no?"

"Treason is relative."

The Great Lion chuckled. "Yes, I suppose it is. Neither Robert nor these fools realize it yet, but he broke the rules. He created a precedent. Now, the ruler on the Iron Throne no longer has to be a Targaryen. And there is more than one king in Westeros. Though I suspect that your desires are a bit different."

"Where are you heading with all this?"

"A king needs a queen. And I do remember how you asked me for my daughter's hand not too long ago."

"Ahh, I see. And I trust that secrets between a good-son and a good-father remain secrets then?", Ned inquired.

"Spare me the theatrics, Stark. You want to marry her for I know that you have feelings for her. And I know that you don't like Robert. What happened in the Red mountains must have turned you against him. Probably what some bards had been singing until recently."

"What things?"

"Some sang of how Lyanna and Rhaegar eloped together. Of course, everybody on the side of the Rebellion said it was madness and that Rhaegar kidnapped and raped her. A ridiculous concept. Rhaegar was no rapist and he could charm any woman he wanted to bed. Anyone who knew the man could tell you that. That leaves only one option, doesn't it?"

"And what do you think of it?"

"I think that you should definitely keep it a secret. At least for now. Robert might be a great warrior, but all my instincts tell me that he will be a poor king. And from what I have heard of Lysa Tully's character, I dare say that she won't be much of a queen either. Makes you wonder what kind of an heir they will make. An opportunity for someone else to replace that person. Somebody with a much stronger claim. Somebody who has the backing of the King in the North....and the Warden of the West."

"And you want to help me in that venture?"

"Provided you make my daughter your queen. And that you tell me true, this Northern Independence isn't going to be just a temporary thing now, is it?"

"It will last till the end of time, as far as I am concerned." Ned stated firmly. He would gain his nephew all of Westeros _south_ of the Neck, only. "I believe we are in full agreement, Lord Tywin. From what I understand Lady Cersei is in the capital. I will be heading North the day after tomorrow, so I would think it perfect if my future queen joins me."

"Splendid. You know, I had a feeling that you had brain in your head, ever since Harrenhal, your Grace. I am glad I was right. Now I will go inform my daughter of her good fortune. If you will excuse me." and so the Lion lord left and Ned was left triumphant.

Everything was going according to plan. His trip to this stinking city was a resounding success - he took what he wanted from Robert and finally managed to claim the woman he loved. Soon he will be breathing the clear air of the North once more. Eddard Stark, King in the North was finally heading home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still setting things up. This fic is going to have a lot of chapters so please be patient with me alright?!


	3. Stag eats trout, lion weds wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stag weds the Trout and the Lioness meets her wolf once again. Weds him and beds him.
> 
> Yeah, there is smut in this chapter. Nothing too graphic, though the scene between Robert and Lysa could be somewhat uncomfortable to watch for some people. Nothing too much though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe just how popular this fic has become. Just lol. Like LOL.

Cersei was ecstatic. She had come to the capital thinking that she was to become queen, like her father had promised her so long ago. She had thought that she would be married off to Robert Baratheon, but things did not go according to what she thought would happen. She was still to be queen, but not Robert's. No, Cersei was to be the queen of none other than Ned. He had declared the North a kingdom with himself its king. _King Eddard._ It sounded strong, the name of a warrior king, like she had jested with him back at Harrenhal. Not that Ned knew for whom he was named. Only thing he told her was that it was a very old Stark name. 

And names did matter. Last names usually, but kings had numbers to show how many men of the same name ruled before them. Robert Baratheon was the first Baratheon to sit the Iron throne. And Ned was the first Stark king in the last three hundred years. The King in the North. Or the King of Winter, the titles being interchangeable. 

Cersei was to be his wife, his queen. She couldn't help but giggle like one of those silly hens that fancied themselves ladies, but she couldn't stop herself. When her father had told her that she could not marry a mere second son, she had tried to forget the man. Ned Stark was a quiet sort of man, which intrigued Cersei. All men tended to boast about themselves, how strong they were, that they had knighthoods, that they were the children of this person and that. _As if it was an achievement to be born into a noble house._ It was luck, some were just lucky to be born to the right families. And so was she. Such thoughts tended to scare her so she pulled herself ought of those and focused on the coming days.

When Ned had come to her to tell her the news, she was overjoyed to meet him, but he also shared with her his secret. Of the truth behind Lyanna's alleged kidnapping. Truth be told, Cersei was hardly surprised that it was all a lie. She had met Lyanna and knew that there was no way anyone could kidnap her. The Knight of the Laughing Tree herself, though that was secret that only five living people knew, herself included. And she had noticed the glances between Lyanna and Rhaegar. And the way Lyanna reacted when Robert proclaimed his love for her. And now the poor woman had lost Rhaegar and was forced to hide herself and her boy for fear of Robert. It didn't matter though, they would be safe in the North, away from Robert Baratheon and his filthy trout. 

When Ned told her that the cause of all this was that stupid duck-faced bitch Lysa Tully, she could hardly believe it. You could find goats with wits greater than those of that shrew. Why would she do it, Cersei had no idea. Lysa was now to become queen true, but that is too far fetched a scheme for anyone, even her father. What was going on?

"Ughh, enough. I am marrying my Ned soon.", she muttered to herself to ease her worries. Ned had said that he wanted to leave as soon as possible for the North, but Robert had insisted on him staying for the royal wedding and so it was decided that not only will they wait it out, but Ned would wed her here, in the Red Keep's Godswood. And that made her even more excited. They would marry three days after Robert and Lysa, who themselves were marrying later today. 

Cersei did not mind marrying in the traditions of Ned's gods. It was the Seven with all their annoying rules and doddering priests, who only knew how to chide you on how you are doing everything wrong. But everything was going for the better. Father had gotten his other wish as well - Jaime had been removed from the Kingsguard and pardoned by Robert Baratheon for killing the Mad King. Probably because he knew that someone had to kill Aerys in the end - and thus father got his precious heir back. To make certain that Jaime 'did his duty', father quickly had a conversation with Lord Hightower and betrothed him to the Reachman's daughter, Lady Lynesse Hightower. The days, the twins believed they were the only ones for each other, were long since gone, but Cersei couldn't help but feel this to be an end of an era. Which it indeed was. The end of one and the beginning of a new one.

A knock was heard at the doors of her bedchambers and Cersei bid her maid to open them. A page came in, a northern boy by the looks of it, one likely to have seen less than fifteen namedays, and proclaimed: "Here comes the King of Winter, Eddard of House Stark, The Fourth of His Name, King in the North and Lord of Winterfell."

"There is no reason to shout that all the time, Jory.", she heard Ned's gentle but firm voice come from beyond the door. 

"Sorry, my lord. It is kind of exciting.", Cersei couldn't help but chuckle at the lad. Nobody has had the chance to proclaim those titles in 300 years after all.

"Ahh, what am I going to do with you, lad?!" Ned sighed in a rather comical manner and fully entered the room and thus she could finally see him. He wore a fancy grey doublet, decorated with wolf heads and a green shoulder cape. "You really need to relax. There is going to be a lot of shouting of my new titles back home. Wait outside now." The boy nodded and left. Cersei returned her gaze onto Ned and barely had the thought of telling the maid to fuck off before she embraced him in a way most wives wouldn't even dare do to their husbands. But she was not most women. And he sure as hell was not most men. "I am glad that you missed me."

"Missed you? I was struck with worry ever since I heard of the Rebellion. Then you come here and tell me all those important secrets and that you will be king and I your wife. Something we both had had to come to term with being impossible. And then you go off somewhere to chat with all those lords and I haven't seen you since yesterday."

"You do realize that we are not married yet, right? Can't you wait until after to boss me around?"

"I don't see how that has anything to do with me being frustrated.", she sighed, having gotten it out of her system. "So, my king, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"I wanted to take you to the Great Sept, my fairest lady. It is time we witnessed the less important royal wedding."

"Inferior by far.", she sighed. "The groom is nowhere near as handsome as you and let's not even begin discussions on the bride."

"The bride would be in the hands of my torturers if I had my way. But the time will come for that. I can wait."

"I hope you do more than just wait.", she said as she embraced her wolf king.

"Oh, I have huge plans for the North, my love. To make you happy, to have children by you. To raise Daeron and his aunt with Lyanna. So much to do. I will be a busy bee.", he chuckled. "Now, shall we?"

* * *

Lysa was so enamored with him. Robert Baratheon was such a great man. Those big muscles and that manly beard, Lysa felt like a princess from the songs. A queen rather, to the man who conquered the dragons. She never even dreamt of such a fortunate marriage for herself, before her dearest Petyr told her not to give that wolf bitch's letters to her kin. Oh, how wise her beloved truly was. Now she was queen. Lysa was walked down the aisle by her father. Hoster Tully, the Lord of Riverrun, might have claimed to be wise, but he wasn't. He had banished her dear Petyr from home, after he had bedded her and made sure to kill their child in the womb. She hated him. But he had arranged her crown so she would forgive him. 

Last night, he had spent a whole hour explaining to her the duties of the queen. All that she had to do and frankly she was bored out of her mind. _Let him tell this to Cat. She is the one who has to marry that old coot._ Jon Arryn may be the Warden of the East and Robert's Hand but he was even older than father. His teeth were rotten, it was simply disgusting. But she had not cause to care. Thankfully, she was not the one to have to wed and bed the decrepit old man. Lysa would be queen and father even agreed to bring to court her Petyr. She was so overjoyed, she could barely contain herself.

The High Septon spoke some words, the ones she had memorized from her teachings and so they were made man and wife. It was the happiest day of her life, even though she dreamed of Petyr being her husband, this was better. He would be her lover and through Robert, she would be queen and her child - king.

The moment Robert placed the queenly crown on her head was the best ever. The guests were all cheering for her. She was smiling from ear to ear. Congratulations were given from all the guests at the feasts. Gifts were given to herself and the king. He drank a bit too much but it did not matter really. The wedding was her moment. Hers. No one else's. There were songs and dances and it was all perfect. 

After a few hours, men started calling for the bedding and so she was taken off her feet by a crowd of men who carried her towards their wedding rooms. They tore off her clothes and groped her and said baldly and inappropriate things, but that was tradition, so she bore with it.

And oh, the bedding. Once they were tossed in the room, she could finally gaze upon his naked form. So well muscled. Robert was so handsome, his shaft hard pointing to the ceiling. What followed was not what she imagined though. Quite the opposite in fact.

Unlike with Petyr, his girth was too large for her and it caused her pain. Regardless of her protests, he kept on going, rutting her from above and his breath stinking of wine. It was disgusting, plain and simple - her husband was a pig. He kept on rutting into her, even when she tried to claw at him to make him slow down. Her prayers to the Maiden Above were obviously answered, because the coupling did not last too long. 

What Lysa would never forget however was what happened just moments before Robert collapsed on top of her, having fallen asleep. He called her 'Lyanna'. That wolf bitch's name left his lips and for that she would never forgive him.

* * *

Jaime had not been fine. Truth be told, he was still shocked from all that happened. Him killing Aerys, he hated doing it and yet did not regret it. It was all messed up, the need to do it. The madman wanted to burn the city to the ground with wildfire. The fuck was he supposed to do? Let it happen? What happened with all the vows? - defend the innocent, protect the king, obey him in all things....

_What if the king wanted to hurt the innocent? Why did the books not answer that question?_

It did not matter though, none of it did. He had failed. In his obsession with saving the city from Aerys, he had lost it to Robert. The bastard who killed sweet Elia and her innocent children. The bastard who walked over their corpses to sit his fat arse on the Iron throne. Jaime wanted to kill him. Seven Hells, his father had to chain him in his rooms to stop him from doing it, after he had heard of what had transpired. 

_I am going to kill that fucker. It may be in a year or in twenty but I will._

The only reason Jaime never told anyone about the Wildfire plot was that he did not want to make the cunt think of himself even more as a hero. He was no hero, just another breed of beast. But it did not matter - his day will come. 

Today was his sister's wedding. The one of Robert was not an affair he attended, for fear of strangling the groom. Not that it would have been such a huge loss to the realm. But this wedding. Another royal wedding in the span of three days. A king in the North was marrying his sister. That was by far the weirdest thing that has happened recently. But Jaime was adaptable - the world has changed after all. 

Robert was King of the Andals and the First Men, but Lord of the _Six_ kingdoms. Ned Stark was King in the North. 

Jaime did not know how to feel about that. He knew that the man was the one who made Cersei forget about Jaime completely as a lover. Which probably was a good thing, all things considered. Jaime himself had a match he has yet to meet. A fine match, his father had said, but Jaime's dashed hopes on the glory of knighthood prevented him from taking much joy in the idea of marriage. Either way, it did not matter. He had killed Aerys and his pyromancers. HIs sister was now being happily married.

Unlike the traditional weddings he had witnessed, this one was in the style of the Old Gods and apparently was much simpler one. The Wedding was officiated by some northerner, whose name he did not recall. The ritual was performed in the evening as was the custom, in the godswood of the Red Keep. It had none of those heart trees, the Northerners loved, but a common one would suffice, right?!

"Who comes before the Old Gods tonight?"

His father, who had brought his sister down the aisle answered: "Cersei of House Lannister, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?" 

"Eddard of House Stark, Fourth of His Name, King in the North and Lord of Winterfell. Who gives her?"

"Her father, Tywin of House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Lord Paramount of the Westerlands and Warden of the West."

"Lady Cersei, do you take this man?"

"I take this man."

And thus the wedding ceremony was over. Ned Stark removed the Lannister cloak, the one previously worn by their late mother, and put on her shoulders a cloak bearing the sigil of House Stark. And he carried her in his arms to the Wedding feast.

The pair sat at the head table prepared for the feast, with Jaime sitting beside Cersei. He found himself somewhat lacking appetite. 

"You really should eat something, brother. Can't have the future lord of the Rock to starve."

"Oh, shut up. I hate weddings, you know that."

"Dread them and run from them like a rat from a cat more like. Especially yours, but there is no going around this Jaime. You will wed and bed your betrothed and do your duty by your house.", his father included himself in the conversation.

"Why not just leave it to Tyrion?"

"I will pretend I did not hear that.", his father's always serious tone took a darker turn. "Your sister is becoming a queen and you will do your duty by your house also. I will find something for Tyrion to do." And that seemed to be that, because his father strode off towards his future good-father. 

"I suppose congratulations are in order, Ser Jaime.", his good-brother now spoke. "It seems that everyone is getting married these days."

"Indeed.", he chuckled. "You know, I never heard a word from you. On me killing Aerys. Most people call me Kingslayer so often that I doubt they even remember my real name. Robert did not refer to me in any other way, when he freed me from the Kingsguard. What do you think?"

Ned Stark gave him a stern look. "Aerys killed my father and brother. And as stupid as it was for Brandon to do what he did, none of them deserved death. You will hear no complaints from me on that front. But...where were you when Robert was killing Elia Martell and her children. I heard that you were a Kingsguard and those protect the whole royal family, Ser. Or were you too distracted by your handiwork that you forgot about them?"

Jaime froze. He....he....no. There was...I..... 

"Father wants me to leave the capital alongside you. Just in case I decide to make myself a kingslayer once more. It is very tempting, you know?!"

"Oh, but I do know.", Jaime looked at his eyes directly. There was a look of murder in them. A look of spite and hatred. But not one pointed at him. But on....what the hell? Realization dawned on him. _But those two are best friends._ _They took the realm and split it between each other. It is impossible. Unless.....unless....Ohh, so that tale was not just that then._ "What is it Ser Jaime? Cat got your tongue. Or do you realize right now that nothing is set in stone? There will come a time when all the beasts of the land will be out for the blood of the game in the woods. Would you entertain an invitation to such an occasion?"

Jaime smirked. This bloody game of thrones. Never ceases to entertain with its turns and twists and dead ends. "Why your Grace, I do enjoy a good sport."

Not too long after that, someone, most likely Robert, called for the bedding. Contrary to what he expected, Ned Stark said that he would escort his bride to their wedding chambers. "It wouldn't do for me to break a man's nose on my wedding night." he said and picked Cersei up to carry her to place of their bedding. Jaime, father and few others followed behind them, after all it was customary to make sure that the bride and groom fucked on their wedding night. It was more out of concern for the validity of the marriage, because in every law of every land, if a marriage was not consummated, then it was easily annulled. The door locked in front of them and the men stood waiting. As soon as the moans of Cersei's pleasure left her lips, the people, who had kept quiet till then, began to take their leave.

Only Jaime remained behind. To ensure that his sister was well, he told himself and knew that it was mostly true. Whoever it is that married her, if that person was cruel to her, they were dead. But Ned Stark wasn't such a man, much to Jaime's relief. Or disappointment, depending on how one looks at it. 

"Oh, Ned. Harder. Mmmm yeah. Keep going."

"Oh, Cersei. Keep bouncing those hips."

"Mmmm, yeah. You are so big... Ohhh, Ned."

Jaime couldn't stand them anymore. They were obviously happy. And he was glad for them. The Heir to Casterly Rock left the corridor and returned to the feast, desperately trying to think of something other than his sister moaning about Eddard Stark's cock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just picked a number for Eddard's of his name thing, because 8000 years and not a single Eddard on the northern throne? Come on.
> 
> I hope that I captured Lysa's delusional way of thinking. She is crazy.
> 
> And of course our resident Kingslayer. I pulled him out of the Kingsguard because I think we all know that in the current settings, he would easily become a kingslayer a second time and my plans for Robert are different.


	4. Dare and Dany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyanna mourns the past and dreams of the future, Jon goes to Dorne to negotiate peace.

Hatred. Sadness. Grief.

She was not supposed to be feeling these things now. She was supposed to be beside Rhaegar and Elia. Lyanna was supposed to get her happy ending. Rhaegar was supposed to hold his son. Elia was to live for months, maybe years more. Instead....her Rhaegar died. Her Elia died. The children, those adorable little things, dead. Long before their time, Rhaenys and Aegon were to live no more. And all at the hands of him, the one who father had betrothed her to - Robert Baratheon.

 _I will kill him._ She vowed. To the Old Gods and the New. To all the gods that ever were. _He will die by my hand. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day. When he thinks he is safe and happy, I will snuff the life out of him with my bare hands and teeth._

But not just him. Lysa Tully, Robert's queen, will also die screaming for this. She is the one who caused it. She and whoever else is behind it also, will burn. She would see to it, the south is yet to learn the fury of the She-Wolf of Winterfell. 

Fury - it is one of two things that keep her still moving. The other was the two children that slept in the cradle in front of her. Daeron and Daenerys Targaryen - the last remnants of a once illustrious bloodline, stretching back to the foundation of the Iron throne and beyond. Now hunted by Robert Baratheon. Or would be hunted by him, if he knew where they were, which he didn't.

Thank the Gods for that.

From his last letter, Lyanna Stark had been informed that her brother had succeeded. He had successfully convinced Robert Baratheon of her passing and now they were safe. Relatively so. He still hunted for the late queen's last daughter. The Mad king's daughter. Nay, Rhaegar's baby sister.

_I failed your wife, children, mother and brother, my sweet prince, but I will not fail your little sister. Nor our son. I will raise them together, as if she were my own, too. She will lack for nothing. I would shower her with all the love she requires, my daughter in all but name._

Looking at the two adorable royals, she couldn't help but forget her grief if only for a moment. The two babes were snuggling against each other, a picture of perfect adorableness. They had been that way ever since she put little Dany, as Lya had decided to call her, right next to Dare, as she had called Daeron in turn. Dare and Dany. They were true Targaryens alright. Barely born and you can't separate them from one another without making them cry. She couldn't bring herself to do that.

That sight had brought her to the time, when she and Rhaegar were laying together in bed at the nameless tower; Rhaegar had dubbed 'The Tower of Joy'. It was there that they had discussed the future. He had told her how Aegon and Rhaenys would marry one day. How their son will marry Rhaegar's future sister. All those things, things that he could not have possibly known, they had talked about. Lyanna had humored him, for he had no way of knowing that he would have a son and that his mother would give birth to a healthy girl, instead of a boy or another stillbirth. And yet, his prediction came true.

They had their Daeron. And there was the last child of queen Rhaella - Daenerys Stormborn, as Ser Willem had dubbed her. For the great storm that had raged on and inadvertently saved her life.

And now they were safe, all of them at Winterfell. Her home - the place where winter itself bent the knee. One of the many funny tales that Old Nan had told them when they were younger.

Allegedly, during the Long Night, Brandon the Builder had fought side by side with many other heroes of his day to defeat the army of the dead and the Others right here. At this spot, did Brandon beat them back and banish them to the Lands of Always Winter. He built the Wall further north and founded the Night's Watch to guard the realms of men. And right here, Brandon established his castle and House Stark and his son, also called Brandon, in what must have been sheer arrogance, named himself 'King of Winter'. A ridiculous title in her mind. For there was no mortal man who could claim dominion over winter.

And yet the Starks persisted. They survived for thousands of years, united the whole North under the direwolf banner. Became the first and only kingdom of Westeros to vanquish the Andal invaders and exact a bloody retribution upon them on the lands of Andalos, which were in far Essos. The ancient kings of winter then became Kings in the North. For they had become the first and only house to tame the region. They even survived the coming of the dragons, when other proud and ancient houses died out. And they survived till today, when another Stark claimed the bronze sword-crown of the ancient kings. According to maester Wallys's successor, a kind man called Luwin, Ned was to be the Fourth of his Name.

Of course, all that was a pile of horseshit, that Lyanna Stark didn't give a fuck about. She cared only for the safety of the little babes in the cradle in front of her. The babes and revenge on the man who orphaned them. Revenge and raising children, Lyanna had her work cut out for her. But there was a time for everything. She could wait. She would plan and do so with great care for the details. She would avenge her Rhaegar.

Lyanna wiped the tears from her eyes. The tears that were always In her eyes, whenever her thoughts drifted back towards her silver prince. Her husband. Her love. That wonderful person who should have been king. _Oh Rhaegar, how could you lose to that man? You should have buried your sword in his fat neck my love and come home to me._

No. No more tears. No more grief. No more. She had to think of the future now. She would raise the two dragons together. Revenge would keep her warm at night and their childishness will keep her happy during the day. 

A knock on the door drew her from her thoughts. It was Benjen, her youngest brother. The pup that had to grow into a man. To become the Stark in Winterfell while Lyanna and Ned were down south.

"Lya, Ned is about to arrive. We should go and greet him.", he said. "I...could go alone if you like."

"No, I will come.", she got up from her chair. The bedchambers she were given were the ones she occupied before she left. Big and spacious, as befitting the daughter of the lord of the castle, there was a large window, a comfortable and spacious bed, a table and some chairs made of oak and a mirror. There was also a nursery that was quickly build for the two babes. Naturally, everybody in Winterfell knew who Lyanna was, but safe for Ned's companions who followed him to Dorne, no one outside the castle knew of Lyanna's survival. The servants here were loyal to House Stark and Lya had some confidence that they would keep her secret. Lya had made it abundantly clear what would happen if they didn't. Just to be sure.

"Well, come along then. I have called Old Nan to look after those two.", Benjen made a gesture to take her arm, as nobles tended to do for their ladies, but a stern look from her reminded him of who his sister were. Lest he has forgotten. Lyanna strode outside the castle and into the courtyard and greeted the procession. At its head, stood her brother - the brand new Lord of Winterfell and for the first time in 300 years - King in the North.

Lyanna was not so sure how she felt about the latter. There was a small part of her that did not like how Ned was stealing from her son's inheritance, but she shoved that thought aside. For now.

Behind him was a carriage that must have carried his new bride - Cersei Lannister. Despite everything, Lya was happy that her brother had found happiness. He deserved it, she knew, even though she was still pissed at him for the past. The meaner part of her still remembered how he was the one to convince father to betroth her to Robert and thus he was the man who started all this nonsense. She knew it was unfair, that she was far more guilty than he, but spite was spite and Lyanna Stark currently was filled to the brim with it.

"Your Graces.", Ben greeted him and Cersei after Ned helped her off the carriage, but Lya merely said:

"Took you long enough, Ned. I thought that you wouldn't dillydally for so long down there.", some people eyed her, but Lya couldn't care less. He might be a king now, but to her he would always be just Ned. "Hello, Cersei. Looking well. I would have thought that your belly would be huge with child by now."

"It might be for all we know.", the Lannister queen quipped. The woman was her friend ever since Harrenhal, so Lya knew all about her relationship with Ned. "Ned has been making every effort."

"So should he. Now Ned, come and give your sister a hug." Ned came closer and embraced her, albeit with some initial reluctance. Possibly because he could sense how angry she was at him. And it was time to lash out. He winced in pain, when she hit him on the back of his head.

"Lya, we are no longer children."

"Shut up, Ned. How dare you get married and not invite me?", she was happy for him, but if he thought that he would get away with it, he had another thing coming. "That crown seems to have made you a lot braver than you used to be. Daring to displease your big sister."

"I am older than you.", he retorted.

"I couldn't care less. How dare you not invite me to your wedding? Benjen, I understand, but me?"

"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?", now that one joins in on the conversation.

"Keep out of it, Ben. This argument is the most normal thing I have done in moons and I sure as hell am going to enjoy grating on his head."

"I am sorry about not inviting you Lya, but Robert insisted that Cersei and I got married in the capital. I couldn't very well bring him here now, could I?"

"How are you feeling, Lyanna?", Cersei asked her and thus reminded both of the Stark siblings that she was here. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine, I suppose. I have two lovely babes to take care of and some bloodlust to keep me toasty at night. I will survive. Now let's get inside. It's freezing today and I want you two to describe to me the wedding. In every detail."

"Even the wedding night?", Cersei quipped.

"Naturally. But let's spare Benjen the juicier details. He is still a young pup."

"Oi!"

And thus, for at least the day, Lyanna could forget the tragedies that had befallen her family.

* * *

Jon married his third wife two moons past. It was a small affair, but he made sure that the bride enjoyed herself. It was the least he could do, because quite frankly there was not much else he could. He was still strong, despite being older than Cat's father, he was still firm and with his wits. Not as handsome as he used to be, not a fool to believe otherwise, but Jon Arryn had always prided himself in keeping his mind and body at their peak capacity. And now he had a bride so young. A part of him pitied the girl. She deserves better than an old coot like him. No doubt, having been raised into thinking that she would marry a handsome lord or a knight. Jon was the Defender of the Vale, one of the great lords of the realm, Hand of the King, but he was still past his sixtieth year, with only half his teeth and hair. Still, his betrothal to her was arranged swiftly and in truth was needed. Jon needed an heir. The Starks may have lost the most blood in it, but it was the losses of House Arryn of the Eyrie that were felt the worst. 

Despite his age, Jon had no surviving children of his own. Only stillbirths and two dead wives. He had a brother and a nephew to succeed him, but thanks to the war he lost them both. According to his maester, Jon's next of kin was his late sister's youngest daughter's newborn baby boy - a Harrold Hardyng. Born the son of a lowly landed knight, without even the Arryn name, was not worthy of being his heir. Jon knew enough of the lad's father to know that he wanted no son of his to become the Lord of the Eyrie.

So to Caitlyn Tully, no doubt still grieving for Brandon Stark, her late betrothed, was left the arduous and so far futile task of conceiving an heir for his house. Even if she was with child now, as he suspected due to knowing the signs, even if that child were to be born healthy and live....would Jon live long enough to raise him to adulthood? Or would the child not even remember him? At this point, he cared little if the child was boy or a girl. Just an heir. One healthy child, just one. That is all that he was asking for. That's all. Would the gods be so kind as to grant him but one?

Jon Arryn could only hope.

He was forced to leave his bride in order to travel to this dusty place. Sunspear - the seat of House Nymeros Martell - the rulers of Dorne. They had lost so much in the war. Princess Elia and her children to Robert's fury. Prince Lewyn to the cowardly attack of Ser Lyn Corbray, a Valemen by the way. Every morning Jon woke up here was a surprise to him. That he still lived. The Dornish had no qualms about killing their enemies in their homes, especially if they were uninvited ones. Being the representative and father figure of the man who was responsible for the deaths of four members of their house, Jon knew that the Dornish would be after his blood as well. 

And they would be in the right. Lewyn's death was during battle, but Elia and her children.... Madness. Madness and monstrosity. What has become of that boy? Jon often lamented over that nowadays. He understood that the fate of the children was unavoidable if Robert wanted to keep his throne or even live without the threat of their vengeance. Without the threat of displeased lords rallying behind their banner. But there were better, or at least cleaner ways to do so. And Elia shouldn't have died at all.

The look of Ser Jaime, when Jon had relieved him of his white cloak as a favor to Lord Tywin, still haunted him. _You have raised a monster, my lord. I hope you know that._ He had said. _Elia and her children were dear to me. And a Lannister ALWAYS pays his debts! Remember that._

Fortunately Robert was not there, but Lord Jaime's words did not leave his minds. Not the thinly veiled threat of the Kingslayer, even though the threat of the Westerlands rebelling against Robert in the future was obvious. It was what he said about him raising Robert. Did he really raise a brutal killer? Could he raise a child properly? 

No. He had to focus on the present. Achieving peace with Dorne. All the male Targaryens were dead and the newborn Targaryen princess, a girl called Daenerys, was spirited to the Free Cities. Possibly Braavos, but their information was uncertain. By now, they could be as far as Volantis or even Qarth. Still, the Dornish were never ones to fear for female rulers, so the possibility of the war continuing was still there.

It would not be too difficult to defeat them in the open field, but that was not the way Dorne preferred to fight. No, it would be worse if they remained here, in Dorne. The entire country was a death trap, which had destroyed any conqueror attempting to take it. Seven Hells, even THE Conqueror could not take it and he had dragons. And knowing Robert, he would no doubt be eager to invade just to shame the dragons. Jon had to prevent that.

So he was here. To talk with the brothers of Elia Martell - Doran Martell and Oberyn Martell. Doran was known as a patient man, so unlike his hotheaded brother and they were all lucky that it was the former who ruled Dorne. It had been days since they last returned to the negotiations table, but something was different this time. Doran's silent anger was no longer as pronounced as before and Oberyn was not ranting insults every time they spoke.

"After careful considerations, we have decided to accept peace with the rest of the country. On certain conditions, of course.", spoke Prince Doran.

"Name them."

"No taxes to the Iron throne for the next 100 years. If your king's dynasty ever lasts that long.", Jon tried to ignore the spite he felt at the Lord of Sunspear's use of the word 'king'. It was huge demand but not impossible. Robert would rage for a while, but Jon cared little. The realm needs peace. "Second, though already fulfilled. You have returned the bones of Lewyn, Elia and her children. As well as their effects. For that you have my thanks. However, the third condition is another matter. You granted the North independence, did you not?"

"It was not my choice, but yes." Frankly, he was still pissed about it. Ned's desire for independence came out of nowhere and Robert's backing had made it difficult for Jon to speak against it. He was proud of the boy, but the precedent was going to be haunting them for quite some time. And It starts now. "King Eddard had the support of the king and Lord Lannister and Lord Tully, your Highness." Truth be told, Lannister supported his future son-in-law, while Tully thought he was supporting his future son-in-law. Ned would have been honor bound to marry Cat, but Jon knew that ever since Harrenhal, Eddard had eyes for only one woman. And that was not Catelyn Tully. 

"We are not asking for that. I understand it will be a difficult position for all, so instead we demand a state of...mutual ignorance. Robert does not remind us of his existence and we do not bother him, that sort of thing."

"I see. Anything else? Perhaps, we could arrange for a betrothal between Princess Aryanne and Renly or Robert's future heir?" The scowl on Oberyn's, and even Doran's faces told Jon to shut his mouth and he did. As far as he was concerned, while costly, this was a win. Jon left Dorne for the capital and his bride, unaware that the sudden change in Prince Doran's animosity was a certain letter that had arrived by way of a rather stealthy rider, bearing the seal of the King in the North.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want to speculate what was in that letter? It's pretty obvious I should think. Just to be clear, this Doran was the one from the books.  
> And am I foreshadowing the Jonerys in this story? Well, yeah, but can you blame me?


	5. The end of the beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several POV's  
> -Lynesse  
> -Littlefinger  
> -Benjen  
> -?????????? ?? ??????
> 
> The Lynesse POV someone requested and the final part of the setting.

Her House was Hightower, the rulers of Oldtown. The wealthiest, most powerful and influential house in Westeros, save the Great Houses. Though one could argue that the Hightower was mightier than several of them. Her father lorded over OIdtown, which before the dragons was the center of civilization in Westeros - The Citadel of the Maesters and the Starry Sept are both located here. The city is the wealthiest in Westeros, richer even than Lannisport, and certainly superior in quality to the capital. 

All that would make people think that the life of the daughter of Lord Leyton Hightower of Oldtown would be all sunshine and rainbows. Well, there was no such promise. Lynesse was the youngest daughter of her father and had nine other siblings. Having many children was said to be good for a lord. It showed his virility and provided more heirs and ways of making marriage alliances. But sometimes, there were too many of them. All these sons needed something to do with their lives. All these daughters needed husbands to make families, lest people started saying they were barren or failures as women. Such was the life of the highborn.

The eldest son receives his father's castle, lands and titles. The other sons could find themselves position of prominence in service to their elder sibling or become knights and make their own fortunes and maybe even form their own houses on rare occasions. The daughters needed husbands and sometimes they would be blessed with a great match. But that was not always guaranteed. Sometimes sons could do little more than flaunt their family name. Sometimes daughters were not able to marry well. It wasn't always theirs or their parents' fault. Just the circumstances. For example, there may not be eligible matches, all the houses nearby had their sons married or being too young or too old for marriage. 

Lynesse, being the youngest daughter of her father, did not expect much of a match. True, she was beautiful and was well aware of the fact, but she still had her worries. Her eldest sister was determined to remain a maid. Another sister of hers was married to a simple landed knight. The others were married too and she was the last. 

Lynesse certainly did not expect to be married to the man, that was currently jousting in the tourney, honoring their wedding. Ser Jaime Lannister was the best possible match. Many considered him a lost cause after he joined the KIngsguard, but then he was released from his vows. And even though everyone now called him the Kingslayer, as the unmarried future lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, not to mention that he was a man every girl would swoon over, he was extremely attractive.

And he was all hers.

When her father had gathered her and her siblings, she did not believe it. Could not believe that he was announcing her impending marriage to Ser Jaime. She was to become Lady Lannister. Needless to say, she was overexcited that evening. He was every girl's dream. And with that, so was she. Her sisters envied her and she loved it. It was the first time they envied her about anything. It tended to be the other way around. 

She clapped as her spouse's lance claimed another victory. Her good-father, Lord Tywin, seemed pleased with her. Though she had heard the way he spoke about her duties to her husband and so knew why. The man treated his own children like cattle. Quite literally - he specifically said how Jaime was to do his duty by having her breed him an heir. Who speaks like that?

Still, the man was old and with any luck she won't have to suffer the grumpy old lord for too long. 

Jaime on the other hand was kind and gentle. At first, he was a bit cold and she knew why. When he was part of the Kingsguard, her husband had grown fond of Princess Elia and her children and was devastated by their death. Lynesse herself had heard the tale of how the new king, the so-called rebel hero, had brutally murdered the royals. After the initial awkwardness, they had grown fond of each other. It wasn't yet love from the songs, but who knows. Jaime has a penchant for being romantic, but he is still coming into his new life - no longer a knight of the Kingsguard but the heir to Casterly Rock. Her sister Leyla was especially jealous, for she had been married to a simple landed knight, who had once saved father's life. She was always Lynesse's least favorite sister and her jealousy certainly helped alleviate many of her worries about her marriage. 

The tourney ended with Jaime victorious. And he crowned her 'Queen of Love and Beauty', as the people applauded. It was certainly the best day in her life.

* * *

Everything was going according to plan. Just as he had foreseen all these months ago. It was mostly based on luck, but it had worked. As soon as he had heard Lysa complain about Lyanna Stark and her letters, he had made certain they would never reach their destination. The She-wolf should never have trusted poor Lysa. She is so....temperamental. So...useful. But thanks to the delusional woman, he finally had a foothold on power. He was in King's Landing and Lysa had arranged for him to be granted a position in the royal customs office. Now all he needed to do was prove his skills and soon enough with that dimwitted cow's help, he would be named Master of Coin. And then so much more.

King Robert was a fool. A brute and a fool. He had dashed Lysa's dreams of being a merry queen within the first 24 hours of her wedded life. It won't be long before she desires him once more. And he would provide, of course. What better thing to do than make certain that the royal heir is of Petyr's own blood?

_The Royal House of Baelish. Hah._

All those great and mighty lords and he had tricked them all into killing each other. It was truly amusing as to how just a few undelivered letters could end a dynasty. And his true aims, his Cat, was still here. Still in the capital as wife of that old fool Arryn. Unfortunately, he would have to focus on Lysa for now. She was currently the priority - to make her trust him completely. To make her believe that he loved her. 

The situation in the city itself was more amusing. From what Lysa had told him, Robert lasted for barely 10 minutes in the small council chamber before deciding that ruling was dull. All in all, that meant that how long him and his dynasty stayed on the throne depended entirely upon the houses that supported him. The people who ruled in his stead. Those were Jon Arryn and Hoster Tully - the Hand of the King and the Master of Laws respectively. Formidable old coots but there would be a time for them. Apart from those two, the small council had the spymaster Varys and the Grand Maester Pycelle. The former's true loyalties, if he had any that is, were unknown to him. The man was formidable though, his spy network was legendary - spanning from Dorne to the Wall and from the Iron Islands as far east as Qarth. The latter was a simpler creature in turn. A Lannister creature, who was rumored to be the one to have helped in getting the city gates opened. There were also Lord Stannis, the king's brother, and new Master of Ships after the death of Lord Velaryon as well as Lord Staunton, a remnant of the old regime, a tired old man and the Master of Coin. 

The way things were going, it might be easy for him, if he proved himself useful, to replace the old coot as Master of Coin. He was kept on only at the urging of Lord Arryn as a sort of peace offering to the Targaryen Loyalists. 

Either way, it took but a few moons for Petyr to realize that Lord Arryn would be the one wielding the true power in the city, something that Lord Hoster resented. Not the first of his disappointments though. The Lord of Riverrun was hoping that Lord Stark would marry his daughter, his Cat, but instead he had declared independence and to Lord Hoster's disappointment had married Lady Cersei Lannister. He could not well protest that. That cunning wolf had the support of the king and Lord Lannister and being the king's best friend and the one to have suffered the most losses during the rebellion. Not to mention that Lord Hoster had supported Stark's desire for independence, probably because he wanted both his daughters to become queens....clever, he had to admit. Thanks to that, Cat was not half the world away, but living in the same city he was.

The best part was that with both Rhaegar and Lyanna dead, there was nobody that could prove his and Lysa's complicity in all this. All was going according to plan.

* * *

Home was Winterfell. And home was...overcrowded. Lyanna and Ned were back home. As well as Cersei Lannister, Lyanna's son, Prince Rhaegar's newborn sister and three Kingsguard knights. A crowd to be sure. Going about disguising them was not easy. Just as Ned had pointed out, it was their names that were famous. Up here nobody knew what they looked like. Not really. The way people were talking about him, Ben would have thought that the legendary Sword of the Morning would be ten feet tall. Turns out he is just a little taller than the youngest Stark.

Lya as usual was terrifying. Not least of which because of all the losses she had suffered. When he heard the whole story, Ben cursed himself and Bran and father and Ned for it. Lya ha made it abundantly clear that she did not want to marry Robert. How could any of them think that she would go along with it. She is Lyanna, for gods' sake. Of course she would not. 

Instead, she fell in love with a married man, with a dying wife, and the two decided to elope together. And thanks to the treachery, the South is well known for, it came to war. That and of course Bran being Bran doing something stupid. And then father went to the capital. And then all hell broke loose.

Either way, it was all over now.

"It is not over, you know." Ned began talking and destroyed Ben's hopes. They were all gathered in the Great Hall to discuss the recent developments. Benjen had to admit that his brother looked good with a crown. "Robert will not rule, that much is clear. Whoever is around him will have to be the one actually in charge."

"Meaning Lord Arryn, I imagine?", Cersei asked.

"Indeed. And probably Hoster Tully."

"I still don't understand why you think his regime will be more vulnerable later instead of now.", Lya questioned.

"Because sister, the realm needs peace in order to plot. It needs to relax before beginning to plan another carnage. And to forget the Mad king. Robert's misrule will obviously become apparent eventually. Jon will never be able to completely reign him in and Hoster Tully will only indulge him. And Daeron is too young to be a pretender to anything. We will raise him into a king, but that takes time."

"I know.", Lyanna acquiesced. "Just promise to leave Robert's death to me. He will die by my hand. No one else's. Is that clear?"

Ned nodded, while Cersei rolled her eyes. "When the time comes, I do hope that I will have the support of Lord Tywin and Prince Doran. if I manage to sway one of the other great houses to our side, we should not have too hard a time removing the Baratheons from King's Landing.", Ned spoke with the confidence of a king. "Now as to the North. As you know, I have several ambitious ideas."

"Of course.", Ben couldn't help but quip. They had all heard of his plans. At least him and Lya. "So...what are the plans of our king?"

"Oh, I am sorry that I want to turn our backwater kingdom into a rich and prosperous one. It is so wrong.", Ned groaned. "Either way, as you know I have plans to build another city on the western coast. Preferably at Sea Dragon Point or perhaps a little more south. I would renovate the roads and while I was in the capital I made some inquires. The citadel has agreed to lend me a few maesters to research the Northern Mountains. Nobody has ever mined them so if there is some kind of precious ore there, I would like to commence mining operations in the area. Moat Cailin will be rebuilt as well. It is after all our main defense for attacks from the south. I also plan on rebuilding the Northern fleets. One to the west and one to the east."

"Grand plans as always." Lya smirked. "Given that we have the largest sea borders of any region in Westeros, it is a wonder that we already don't have a fleet or two. The eastern one would be at White Harbor I presume and the other one at that hypothetical city. Just one tiny problem....what about funds for all that? We Starks are hardly poor, albeit humble, but all that would cost a fortune."

"My father has promised to extend a loan to us.", his brother's wife answered. "And would also help to start up the economy of the new city with his influence in Lannisport and his connections with the Iron Bank."

"Seems like everything is planned out.", Ben pointed out. "So why are we here?"

"To coordinate it all with you. I need you both now. We need to stand together. Remember! The lone wolf dies,"

"...but the pack survives.", Lya concluded the saying. "Father has been telling this to us for years. We remember it. And fret not little brother, I am not going anywhere. I have two children to raise.", Lyanna said, but that just reminded Ben of what his brother was likely to address next.

"I know. And neither are you, Ben. You are not joining the Night's watch. I will not allow you to waste your life in that place. It might have been an honorable institution once, but nowadays it is naught more than a glorified penal colony, fit only for traitors, thieves, rapists and killers. You are none of those things."

"But brother..."

"Not another word. My decision is final. You will stay here and help me rule the North. It is for the good of the country."

And that was it. The so-called discussion was over and Benjen left the Great Hall. He had been planning to go to the Night's Watch ever since he heard one wondering crow preach about it at Harrenhal and his father had agreed. But...new regimes, new rules. Still, it might be interesting to see how all this unfolds. 

* * *

It was the sight of a great battle. The place where she and her mistress were walking. Thousands had died there. By sword, by spear, by mace....by hammer. The peasants whisper of how the river was clogged with bodies for days, while they had been left to clean it up. 

_Scavengers._ She reminded herself. _They who rob the dead._

She was not there for that though. She was on a mission from Him. She had to locate it. Or rather, her mistress had to do it, while the slave of the god was to merely observe. Such was the duty of an acolyte. To study until their master deemed them worthy of servitude everlasting to the one true God. 

But how to find it though? That was the question that was swirling in her head ever since they landed on the shores of the great river. Her mistress was merely walking around the bank of the river, not looking, allowing the Lord to guide her. 

Her necklace, the one fastened to her neck began to glow with red light. His light. 

It led her to a particular spot. And there she found the half-buried object of their quest.

"It would seem that the Lord's light shines bright within you.", her mistress spoke. "He has led you to the end of this journey and the beginning of the true one."

"But Lady Kinvara, how are we supposed to do anything with this? I have heard of the Lord's power to perform the miracle which we seek, but isn't this above that?" She realized her mistake when the hand of her mistress struck her across her face. 

"The Lord's might is unquestionable.", she spoke in her ever even voice, not a sign of anger on her face. "But you are not wrong. Such a miracle has not been performed in hundreds of years. But we will find a way. The Lord has led us here for a reason. The Lord revealed your potential to me, while I was walking through the slave markets of Volantis for a reason. The Prophesy was not broken by what has transpired here, merely delayed. But it matters not. When the Long Night comes, we shall be ready.", she turned towards the members of The Fiery Hand who had accompanied them on the journey. "I shall cast protective chants on it, once I am done you shall prepare it for transportation."

"Yes, High Priestess.", they answered at the same time.

Once all was said and done, her mistress turned towards her. "The Lord has shown that he favors you for this task. You are now his servant, your training is done.", overwhelmed, she knelt. "Your task is protect the Lord's Champions with your life. You shall be alone, but for the Lord. Speak to me through the flames to give me information on their development and to inform me of anything else of worth."

And thus, she was left all alone. With no other choice but to obey, the priestess headed north.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, the premise for the Greyjoy rebellion  
> Who do you think is the mystery character in the last POV? I tried to be subtle, but I am not very good at that ;)  
> PS: there will be a six years time jump. I am also looking for names for the new city in the North.


	6. 7 years later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is in the title. Seven years since last chapter's events. I think I have figured it out. Hope you like it.

It has been seven years since Cersei got married to Ned. Seven great years.

Her first great joy came with the birth of their firstborn child - their son Edwyle. He was not alone though. To the surprise of all, he was born with a twin sister - Myrcella. As strange as it was for twins, they looked so different from one another. Where Edwyle's hair was as black as night, Myrcella's was golden. His eyes were grey, hers - two priceless emeralds.

Both Ned and her were so happy, when they welcomed them into the world. Ned had ordered that the bells were to be rung for a whole day in celebration.

That was not to be the end though. Before they knew it, she was pregnant again. Happiness overflowed the Golden lioness once more and nine months later her child was to be born.....

Her joy turned to ashes in her mouth, when the boy, she had decided to call Joffrey, was stillborn. If it weren't for Ned, she would have completely sunk into depression. _Life goes on._ He had said. _We will have another. Joffrey was simply not meant to be. We must move on. Live for the living, not for the dead._

She had slapped him on the face, but two weeks later had decided to forgive him. It was time to move on, she knew, but she did not have to like it.

She began to heal when she learned she was pregnant once more. With another child. Tommen, she called him. If she did not know better, she would think that he was Myrcella's twin, but there were subtle differences. His eyes were not as brightly green as hers, nor does he have curly hair. Not that this changed her outlook on her children - she loved them all fiercely.

Her last child was a girl, who for some reason according to Ned had skinned his sister. Little Arya was the spitting image of a miniature Lyanna Stark and her eagerness to play with the others, even when she is less than three years old, was just the proof of what kind of a woman she would turn into. Not that she complained.

When the children passed their fifth nameday, Ned had insisted that they begin training. With wooden swords, of course. _If the boys are to learn how to fight, then so should the girls._ It was an argument between Ned and Lyanna, when she demanded that Daenerys learned how to fight, too. Naturally, with two daughters herself, Cersei backed her fiercely and the battle was easily won. Though it did frustrate Lyanna, when she saw Daeron and Daenerys sparring. Not because the silver princess had more talent than the hidden king, which she had and it was to both women's great amusement. What frustrated her more was how they flirted with each other, when they thought no one was looking.

 _As much as two seven year old kids can flirt anyways._ It was no more than a peck on the cheek, but the last Targaryens had a mighty bond between them, that much was obvious. Whatever Daeron tried to do, Daenerys would try too, just so that she could prove she could and then she would grow bored with it and the cycle began again. But she loved to fight. That much was certain. When Edwyle had repeated the words of that moron Karstark about women not being able to fight, the little dragon had grown furious. So much so that she had challenged Ed in the open yard and soundly put him in his place.

Part of her was furious that her boy was beaten, but another more prominent one wanted to loudly cheer for little Dany. _Now that is what I call a queen in the making._ If only Cersei had been so brave, when her father had forbidden her from sparring with Jaime.

The two Targaryens were a part of her family, one that she loved too. Cersei had made certain that they would always feel loved and welcome at Winterfell. Part of the family. And even more so did Lyanna.

The She-wolf had made good on her promise to treat them both as her children. Little Dany did not grow without a mother. On the contrary, she had an amazing one. As shocking as it was (to Benjen only), she was incredibly good as a mother. Fiercely protective, just like Cersei herself. Daeron, Daenerys and Lyanna had their sleeping quarters made in the now completely rebuilt First Keep - the oldest part of Winterfell. The castle itself was built upon over and over for many decades, but the First Keep had burned down in a fire 50 years ago and no one had saw fit to rebuild it until now. Now that building housed the Targaryens, Lyanna and their Kingsguard, safe from prying eyes and being attended to only by the most trusted of servants.

Cersei and Ned had made sure that all the servants of Winterfell were trustworthy and would not sell their king's secret, but they still had to be cautious. As far as everyone outside the castle was concerned, Lyanna was called Wylla, a nursemaid to Jon Snow, Brandon Stark's bastard, found and taken in by King Eddard. Nobody could fault him for that, since the whole realm knew how much House Stark lost in the Rebellion. Daenerys was more difficult due to her striking Valyrian features, so unlike Daeron who looked utterly Stark. The Stormborn, as Ser Willem Darry had dubbed her for the night the child had been born, was passed off as Lyanna's (Wylla's) daughter, fathered by a Lysenne sailor and just called Dany. Everyone with a little wits about them would know that in Lys even the smallfolk would have the looks of Old Valyria, such was the blood purity in the Freehold's former colony.

Regardless of the false identity, Cersei and Ned had fed to the rest of Westeros, Dany and Dare were raised alongside Cersei's own, never lacking for anything. At Cersei's urging, Ned had let Lyanna tell the children of their true identities and stress on the point that they should never ever reveal them unless Ned allowed it. They would never steal their identities from them, but safety was paramount.

As for Lyanna herself, she had regained some of her cheerfulness, which is to say she did not tongue lash anyone too viciously, but it seems that taking care of two children certainly seemed to heal her heart. That and perhaps Winterfell's newest resident - Melisandre of Asshai. The Red Woman, as most call her, she had inserted herself into Cersei's home, or rather Lyanna's inner circle. Her influence had certainly cheered her up and now the She-Wolf was back to her old self, though constantly in the company of her red shadow. There was something more to it though, Cersei knew and so did Ned eventually, but the woman had proven to be on their side and if she made Lyanna happy then the hospitality of Winterfell was hers. Fortunately, she did not bother anyone with preaching about her Red God publicly, even though she knew that Lyanna had privately converted to it, but what the hell. It is not like either Cersei or Ned were particularly religious. And Lyanna certainly hadn't that changed much. 

_Though if Lyanna had began fancying women, then it was understandable why she had become so pious. Even Cersei had to admit that Melisandre was a beautiful woman._

Standing there and looking at the children all playing together brought a surge of happiness in the lioness that she has only felt so rarely before. Before coming here. The North was cold to be sure, but there was a tranquility to the place that just felt right. Cersei couldn't help but think on all the things Ned and she had accomplished so far. Ned had commissioned a new port city being built at the western coast, just like he intended. Granted it was far from complete. For now only the basic buildings had been finished, but there was already a port, strong and high walls protecting it and more than a hundred houses and dozens of shops had been built by people who wanted to live there. Not counting White Harbor, the population of the kingdom lived in small scattered villages and small towns. Much better to live in a city. One that was still growing and would have strong connections to Lannisport and maybe even Oldtown. 

They had also built better roads connecting Winterfell to both White Harbor and the new city, which after several ideas were taken into consideration was named after the closest location - Sea Dragon Point. 

There was also the matter of a fleet. As it happens, the North had none. Like really, nothing. Two vast coastlines and no fleet to guard them. The only thing resembling a fleet was the three dozen ships that the Manderlys possessed and even that was no proper fleet. How fortunate it was that they possessed the Wolfswood - the single largest forest in Westeros. So much wood just waiting to turn into a mighty fleet. Now they had two fleets - one at White Harbor, built by the Lord Manderly, and one stationed at Sea Dragon Point. Each fleet consisted of two hundred and fifty ships - 500 in total. Cersei knew nothing of ships, but the maesters that Ned had had brought in from the Citadel all concurred that it was best to have both smaller and faster ships called galleys, but also an equal number of bigger ones - dromonds. 

None of this would be possible without gold though. That much Cersei as a scion of House Lannister of Casterly Rock knew well enough. Luckily Ned's suspicions about the Northern Mountains were proven true by the maesters, when they reported of several locations which could be mined for precious ores. As of now, they had discovered more than a dozen mines producing gold and silver. Granted, they needed to take some loans from father to start all this, but now they had tangible results. While expensive to begin another large-scale project, Ned had begun rebuilding Moat Cailin, the castle defending their southernmost border. 

Things were going slow, but steadily progressing and Ned had predicted that in less than a decade, they would have finished with all their tasks and made the North into a truly formidable kingdom.

"Your Grace.", the new maester, a kind man named Luwin addressed her, a letter in his hand. "There are urgent news from your father."

* * *

The capital was never quiet. Always noisy. The halls filled with chattering noblemen and ladies, all of whom vying for influence. The king, his former ward was not at all what he should be.

Robert of the House Baratheon, The First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Six Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm was a sot. Even Jon could not say something different of his former ward as he was now. 

Whoring, drinking, hunting....those were the things he reigned over. The rest he left to Jon to sort out. The only time he attended a small council meeting was the first one, when the appointment were made. After Robert became king, he could not retain the title of Lord of Storm's End. So he bequeathed his ancestral seat to....Renly. A stupid jab at his brother Stannis, who had let one of the late queen Rhaella's children get away. Not that Jon cared much. As far as he was concerned, one mustn't reward somebody with a lordship, as a reward for killing children. _Yet I put a crown on Robert's head for just the reason in the end._

Stannis had been made Master of ships at least. The ever ambitious Lord Tully became master of laws. The snake Varys retained his position, for Robert quickly found him irreplaceable. The man had an enormous network of spies after all, yet had failed to locate the last scion of House Targaryen, a girl apparently, named Daenerys. At least that is what one of the nursemaids had reported. Silently, Jon prayed that Robert would never find the poor child. If the girl's protectors were clever, they would hide her in Lys, where people with the famous Valyrian features were everywhere. The girl was no threat to Robert's rule, not without support.

Anyways, there was also that man from the Fingers, Petyr Baelish, who the queen had convinced Robert to make master of coin after old Lord Staunton had passed away last year. He was capable, Jon would grant him that, but he seemed just as untrustworthy as the Spider. The Grand Maester was Tywin Lannister's creature. And in the end, the only person the Hand of the King could trust on the small council was Jon himself.

He shouldn't complain though. His life at the least was settled. He had children. Heirs. After so long....

When Catelyn had let him hold their daughter, he wept. He couldn't care less what others said, he wept. Sansa, they had called her. Sansa Arryn. A beautiful redheaded girl. His little girl. At that moment Jon's old heart could fail him and he would have no complaints. He had an heir and damned be the man who says that his little girl cannot inherit his seat. Jon would swing the sword himself at anyone who spoke something like that.

He couldn't though for the following year, Cat was pregnant once more. A boy this time. A son. His son. Jon was not more happy than before. To him any child, boy or girl, was more than welcome. His house would not die with him. He had decided to call the boy Robb, after the king. He was no longer as fond of the man as he used to be, but Cat had advised him that it was for the best. He called him Robb though, not Robert. Robb was the name of Ser Robb Reyne of Castamere, who was one of the finest knights of his time and one Jon's childhood heroes. Not least of which because that Lord of Castamere was married to a Lady of House Arryn. 

And so he now had not one, but two heirs. Which is more than could be said of the king.

As loath as Jon was to gloat, he was glad that he had been the one to marry Catelyn and not Lysa. The woman was insufferable. So much so that even Cat found herself at odds with her sister. The woman also had troubles conceiving an heir. It had been four years into the marriage that Queen Lysa finally gave Robert something other than a stillborn child. A sickly boy named Monfryd after one of the Storm Kings of old. Jon had suggested Durran, since from what he knew of history, back in the old days it was customary for the Storm kings to name their first son after the founder of their house. But Robert loved how Monfryd the Mighty sounded so, here he was....Monfryd Baratheon, Prince of the Six Kingdoms. Not that this made things more peaceful.

Try as he might, the queen could not get with another child and this did not silence the plots of many at court, who were trying to convince the king to set aside his wife and wed one of their daughters and sisters. Lord Tyrell even went as far as offering his daughter, the six year old Margaery Tyrell. _As if Robert would marry a six year old._ Robert was a creature ruled by his lusts and vices and with the Queen not losing any weight from any of her pregnancies, Robert had visited her bedchambers less and less. 

All of which, coupled with Cat and Jon's rather surprising and yet truly welcome marital happiness, had turned Queen Lysa into the most spiteful and unpleasant woman he had ever met. She had even kept on breastfeeding the boy till he was six, when Robert had shouted in public "Stop breastfeeding my son, woman!". That had certainly ended whatever hope there was for the two of them to interact civilly. Shouts and screeching was all that filled the room in which the two of them were located together.

At that moment, Cat barged in, clearly angry and wanting to vent it out. "Septa Mordane, please escort the children to their bedchambers."

"Right away, Lord Arryn. Come Sansa, Robb. Let's leave your parents alone.". the elderly woman led the two away.

"Your sister, I presume." He needn't have guessed. Only Lysa could rile up Cat this way. The worst of it was that the woman was the queen so Cat's etiquette forbid her from snapping at her.

"I can't stand that woman. She is no sister of mine. I can't stand her Jon. Her and this wretched city." she paced the room, still angry and unrelenting. "That's it, Jon. The last straw. I am taking the children and we are leaving for the Eyrie. It's about time I visited our home."

"For how long?", Jon asked a question he knew the answer to.

"Until Lysa dies.", she stated nonchalantly. "I am done suffering her slights, Jon. I tolerated her because she is my sister and queen. I know what humiliations she has to live through because of that fatheaded moron we call king, but I will not tolerate this any longer. I will not sacrifice my dignity so that this little tart can lash out at me anymore."

"Then we are leaving."

"We?", she asked surprised.

"Yes, we.", he went to her and pulled her into an embrace. "Cat, I know that I am not the husband you dreamt of as a child. Back when I was already an old man. And yet, you have given me two children. Two healthy children and no one can ask for a better wife than you. My position at court is nowhere near as important as either you or the children. If you say we leave, then we leave. I too am tired of cleaning up after Robert. And your father will be more than happy to take over from me. I hope he enjoys himself."

"Truly? We are leaving?"

"I am going to command the servants to start packing for our journey to the Eyrie and I will write down my resignation to Robert immediately.", he confirmed in his soft voice to her and he could see her eyes smile the same way her lips did. Something very rare to see in King's Landing. "You will love it there, Cat. The Eyrie is the safest and most well protected castle in all Westeros. And I may be a bit biased, but I also think it the most beautiful. Besides, nobody will dare insult you there."

"Then I will go tell the children." Cat said after she gave him a chaste kiss and left. Jon Arryn meant what he said and sat at his desk immediately. He pulled out a piece of paper and put his quill into the ink, but before he could wright anything, a knock was heard at the door.

"Yes, what is it?" The royal seneschal entered.

"What is it boy?", he repeated. "I am in the middle of something important."

"My apologies, Lord Hand. The King has summoned an emergency session of the small council. You are to attend at once." 

Absent choice, Jon followed the seneschal all the way to the small council chamber. A quaint room, he finds. A large table with chairs, each designated with a symbol for every member of the council. Save for the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard though. Ser Barristan Selmy had fled the capital soon after Robert's enthronement and left for parts unknown. So without him, that seat was abolished by Jon, the reason being that each of the other members of the new Kingsguard were a bunch of buffoons, each of whom were chosen for favors and naught else.

What truly struck him as odd was the fact that the king was there. In seven years, this was the second time he has seen the man in that room and that meant that something big was happening. 

"What was so urgent, your Grace?"

"We just received a letter from Tywin Lannister, Jon. The fucking Ironborn have torched his fleet and sacked Lannisport."

"What? But why? Surely they expect repercussions?"

"Perhaps, this letter from Lord Greyjoy would explain better, My Lord Hand.", Pycelle handed him a scroll with his shaky hands, an obvious act but at that moment Jon couldn't care less.

_To Robert Baratheon, King of Five Kingdoms._

_I Balon Greyjoy, King of the Iron Islands, Lord Reaper of Pyke, Son of the Sea Wind, King of Salt and Rock hereby announce independence from the authority of the Iron throne. From this day till the end of days, we are a free and independent Kingdom of the Iron Islands. Your shores will never be safe until you recognize that and then some for we shall demand an yearly tribute in exchange for not pillaging your lands and sacking your cities._

_We expect your submission._

_Signed: Balon of House Greyjoy, Ninth of His Name since the Grey King. King of the Iron Islands._

"We are at war, Jon."


	7. Dead squids, drowned gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Greyjoy Rebellion.
> 
> Sorry for the long delay. Writer's block is a bitch. And I don't like writing pointless chapters or too short ones, so I hope that you understand.

After seven years of beautiful peace, he found himself in war again. At first, there was the excitement for it. The simplicity of war had appealed to him during the rebellion. Kill or be killed. Overthrow the Mad King. Fight and win. Simple really. Then he discovered that his sister was not kidnapped and had a son, that his friend was a monster, married the love of his life and had children, all the while raising Daeron and his aunt in Winterfell and hiding them along with Lyanna. One could forgive Ned Stark for lusting after something so simple as war.

He didn't any more. It was not the same.

The first thing was that he received a letter from his goodfather, asking for help in repelling the Ironborn. Naturally, Ned sent a letter back, promising to make the Ironborn experience the full wrath of the Northern Kingdom. He kept it. The Greyjoys had conducted a daring assault on Lannisport, sacking the city and plundering the lands around it. Led by Euron and Victarion Greyjoy, the squids had burned down Lord Tywin's fleet. A smart move, Ned had to admit. The Lannister fleet was the largest fleet on the western coast of Westeros, apart from the Iron fleet. The only fleets that could repel them were hundreds of miles away. Hundreds of Ironborn had occupied the city named after Lann the Clever and countless ships were ravaging the western coast of Westeros. 

They even had the audacity to attack Sea Dragon Point. Not that they succeeded. The fools were obviously unaware of the Western Stark fleet's size. Then again, Ned had purposefully been hiding the exact size of his fleet by hiding most of it north of Sea Dragon Point, closer to Bear's Island. 

The worth of that decision was immense. The Ironborn had sent 80 ships, thinking that they had both number and skill on their size. While his sailors were yet untested, the numbers were definitely his. 80 vs 250? The Ironborn did not know what hit them. As soon as they had gotten word of the Greyjoy's intentions, Ned had ordered for the Ironborn's ships to be lured into a trap, surround them on all sides with their far superior numbers and blast them into oblivion. The result - victory for House Stark and the first of many defeats for the Greyjoys. 

The forces of the Iron Throne arrived only after Ned had already vanquished the enemy forces from Lannisport. 

The King in the North.

The Protector of the Realm.

Two monarchs sat inside the great hall of Casterly Rock, with their vassals in between.

"Good to see you Ned. It's been years."

"Likewise, Robert." Ned responded insincerely. Robert Baratheon was the last person in the world, that Ned wanted to see. But he had a bigger fish to fry. A kraken to be precise.

"Your Graces," Jon started. "I think that it will be in all of our interests to unite our efforts in removing the threat of the Iron Islands."

"Beg your pardon.", Hoster Tully began. "But what business does the North have in this matter?"

"My father-in-law sent a missive for help to Winterfell, Lord Tully. Naturally, I responded. As a matter of fact, on the way here, I broke the Ironborn siege at Seagard, a territory that should be protected by you by the way, and personally killed Maron Greyjoy, son of the pretender king of the Iron Islands."

"Enough, Tully. If I wanted to listen to bullshit, I would take a proper fool." That was the first time of many that Ned witnessed Robert joyfully humiliating his good-father. "How many men have you got, Ned?"

"I couldn't afford to wait for too long, but I managed to gather a force of 25 000 men and 200 ships are in the vicinity, patrolling the seas around Casterly Rock, just in case."

"Good. I bring almost 40 000 men from what I got from The Riverlands and the Stormlands. The bloody Redwyne fleet and the Royal fleet are also on the way. I say we strike for the Iron Islands and wipe them out." Robert hasn't changed much, but in that instance Ned tended to agree, up to a point. They had spent the whole day, discussing the logistics of the invasion. 

The plan commenced as soon as they had planned everything out. Their fleets were to converge on the western coast and ferry their forces to the Iron Islands themselves and begin their assault, the main target being the capital of Pyke. 

And so the invasion began. Their invasion. It was like all of Westeros swarmed the Iron Islands like so many locusts, butchering all in their path. Such was war, Ned had in time began to understand - no good sides, only winners and losers. And it is the winners that hold the fate of the losers in the palm of their hand. And you better be the winner.

They surrounded them at Fair Isle, luring them into an ambush. What happened next could only be described as an absolute humiliation for the Ironborn. Over 90 ships of the Iron Fleet suffered defeat, the rest fled. A third of that, sank to the bottom of the sea or was left merely a burning wreckage, drifting atop the violent stormy waves. The rest got captured. Even better, Aeron Greyjoy, brother of Balon Greyjoy, was captured and executed. Ned slew Victarion Greyjoy in single combat. Euron Greyjoy had fled on his ship like the coward he was. 

It was then that they had their path to Pyke clean. Hundreds of ships assaulted the island fortress of the Greyjoys with fury and passion. Knights were falling over themselves to breach the castle walls first. And oh so many knights. Ned never really understood all the glamour of southern knights. Warriors in armor, that was all. And too many of them did not keep to their vows. Nevertheless, thousands of men poured onto the island, it shaking with them as all the men strode forward, swords In their hands.

The castle wasn't anything impressive. Even before the massive renovations, Ned had done to Winterfell, his home was vastly superior to Pyke. The Greyjoy's holdfast was built upon several barren cliffs, as many rather unimpressive buildings, all connected with rope bridges. The King of Winter dared not think of how many people found their deaths, while trying to cross these bridges. Especially during a storm. Inwardly, Ned could understand the Ironborn way of pillage. They had nothing on their islands, one of the maesters had told him, no resources apart from the iron mines, barely any useful vegetation or much farmable land. While the Iron islanders prance about their Old way, the Stark king strongly suspected that the reason for them acting like they did was that they needed to take many necessities from other places. And since they had nothing to offer in return, they had to learn how to steal it.

Ned Stark could sympathize with them.

The King in the North could not.

Ned shuddered when he saw one of the towers of Pyke collapsing, due to the incessant assault of the trebuchets. The terrific cracking of the old building, falling on its weight atop several unsuspecting men-at-arms. Another tragedy of the war, another victory for them.

The rest of the cloudy day of what people would dub 'The Siege of Pyke' went up in a fog. It was not much of a siege, truly. The castle was not really strong. The shores were difficult to take only because of the remaining ships of the Ironborn, but those were too few to make a difference. As far as everyone was concerned, after the Battle off Fair Isle, the war was as good as won. And indeed it was. They stormed the castle and in the heat of battle another son of Balon's, a lad named Rodrick was slain. He would learn only later of the deed and its doer, Lord Jorah Mormont of Bear Island. A young lord, whose father was rumored to want to retire by joining the Night's Watch. A foolish desire, Ned thought. The reason he had forbidden his brother from joining the institution remained the same - the Wall was no place for decent folk.

It didn't matter though. What struck him was some compassion for the brief reign of Balon Greyjoy. He wanted to make himself a king and give glory to his House and yet ended up destroying it. Ned pitied him rather than hating him. It didn't change the circumstance though. 

The siege ended with the capture of the self-proclaimed King of the Iron Islands. Ned stood tall, shoulder to shoulder with Usurper of his nephew's throne and gazed upon the face of the enemy. Balon was not much older than Ned and yet at that instance, he appeared older, haunted and yet - unbent. For the moment.

"Balon Greyjoy, you committed treason and rebellion against your liege, Robert Baratheon and assaulted the Kingdom of the North.", stated the battle-weary and yet as stern as always Jon Arryn. "You have unjustly assaulted their lands, with the intent to pillage, rape and murder. How do you plead?"

"Spare me your hypocrisy, you dogs.", The Greyjoy roared in defiance. "No Greyjoy in history has ever made a vow to a Baratheon. Or to a Stark for that matter."

"Swear one now or loose that stubborn head of yours.", Robert replied smugly. 

Balon rumbled and grumbled but eventually said the words. While the king's men were sacking the castle, Ned spotted a boy and a slightly older girl, peaking at them from behind one of the columns. One of Robert's men-at-arms went for them, when Balon roared again.

"Leave my children out of this. You have already butchered the others."

Robert looked at the whelps. His was an uncaring look, devoid of much feeling other than spite. The last children of Balon Greyjoy were as different as day and night. The lad was tinier than his sister and scared, his eyes avoided anyone's if they could help it. Robert seemed to enjoy that. It was the girl, who was defiant. She stared him right in the eyes with such fierceness that if looks could kill, Robert would be dead three times over. 

Robert turned from them and looked at Ned. "I say we take them as hostages, to make certain he doesn't do anything stupid. I will take the boy and make a proper man out of him, a loyal one. Take the girl, give her to one of your northerners if you want. Couldn't care less."

"Nooo. Leave my children out of it."

"Shut up, squid. If you want to blame anyone, blame yourself.", Robert roared. "And you heard me right. A single longship comes close to our shores again and I sent their heads to you."

He was drinking in Casterly's great hall. The war was over. Hostages were claimed, hostilities - ceased. Ned had been chatting with Ser Jaime, who was obviously besotted with his new wife. He was glad for him. Jaime was not a bad man, despite his incessant desire to convince everyone around him that he was terrible. Lynesse seamed a wonderful person and the two were obviously the talk of the Westerlands. "The Golden Pair", they were dubbed. The lady's hair was even lighter than Cersei's and some fool had japed that she must be a Targaryen in disguise. Ned was glad Robert hadn't overheard that one for the Southern King hated anything Targaryen and would have no doubt at least said something terrible to her. And then Jaime would become a kingslayer a second time.

Ned didn't mind really, but Robert's life belonged to his sister only. And the King of Winter was a man of his word. 

His wife whispered something into his ear and Jaime took her hand, gave his farewells and ran off with her. He missed home more than before now. 

Unexpectedly, it was Jon who took his place. "Your Grace."

"Don't "your Grace" me, please. Not you."

"Seven years and still not used to it?"

"Oh, I am used to it. But I hoped that you wouldn't be.", Ned sighed. "I miss the simple times."

"And I do not.", he stated it more seriously that Ned thought he could. "I know that you boys went through a lot, but it is not all bad. I have a wife now who gave me two children. After so long, I thought that I wouldn't have the chance to be a father."

"You were a father to us."

"Aye, but I did not raise either of you. Not from childbirth. And certainly not in manners. You two remained the same as you were when you came to me.", Jon glanced into the direction of Robert who was patting an obviously discomforted Tywin Lannister on the back after what was most likely some bawdy jape. "Some may have gotten worse since then though."

"It's not your fault."

"Doesn't matter. I will not have another Robert. I will be resigning as soon as we get back to the capital."

"You are?" If this were true, then the last truly able man would be gone from Robert's side. Moreover, one who Ned does not want to war with.

"Aye. I have already sent word for my wife and children to begin preparations for moving into the Eyrie. I want to spent my last years in peace with my family and that won't happen with me in the capital."

"That bad?", Ned asked but he could already guess that Jon was cleaning behind Robert's messes as per usual.

"Robert spends his time eating, whoring and drinking. The kingly duties he has left to me. Hoster Tully will most likely take my spot but I couldn't care less. Let the overreaching trout do what he likes. I have had enough of him and his daughter, the queen." Jon's distaste was quite evident at his last words. "I swear, I thank the gods every day that I married Cat instead of her sister."

"I have heard rumors but..." 

"Oh, they don't do her justice, I assure you." Jon was uncharacteristically exasperated. "We keep the worst of it quiet. That woman is spiteful, vindictive, arrogant, entitled little... And to hear all the things she has said to Cat. In public, mind you. She doesn't care if they are in public, when she throws a fit, run for cover. So envious."

"Envious? But she is queen, no?"

"Oh, yes but you can guess what kind of husband Robert is. And Cat has always been the elder, the more mature and intelligent. The more beautiful. The better mother and, even with an old man like me, also luckier. Not to mention all her stillbirths."

That was news to him. "Stillbirths? As in more than one?"

"Four until young Monfryd was born. But the boy is sickly and frail. There were even rumors of Robert setting her aside for another. Their mutual hatred was well known at court and so many noblemen were vying to put their daughters and sisters in the king's vicinity. The prince's birth silenced the worst of it, but who knows. It is the worst kept secret in the capital that the king and queen hate one another."

"Well, at least Robert has a legitimate heir, right?", he tried to say sagely. Whatever divisions existed in the capital would surely be of much use to Ned one day.

"Yes, but the way Prince Monfryd is being raised, he wouldn't be much of an heir. Robert neglects the boy in favor of his ass-kissing courtiers. And Lysa....oh, that woman's maternal senses are all wrong. She was breastfeeding the boy for years until Robert put an end to it. She coddles him all the time and won't let him anywhere near the training yards or even a pony. Hoster is too busy with the small council to intervene, after all beside me, he is the only other useful man on it. Well, there is Baelish...."

"Who?"

"Baelish. Petyr Baelish. He is a nobody from the Fingers, scarcely above a landed knight. Still, he has proven himself to be quite good as a master of coin, so what the hell. The more people on the small council who know what they are doing the better."

"How could someone like that find his way into the small council?"

"Hmm, now that you mention it, the man was brought by Hoster Tully at the urging of Queen Lysa and placed into the service of Lord Staunton, the previous master of coin. However, after he died, having proven himself to be so useful, I decided to appoint Baelish to his former superior's office."

 _At the urging of Lysa Tully....could he be somehow involved with what happened back then. This Baelish is someone I need to keep a close eye on._ It seems that Ned would have to reach out to his contact in King's Landing.

"Enough of that.", Ned said. "Speak no more of that. You are getting back to the Eyrie and won't have to think of it anyways. Who knows? Perhaps Robert would grow as a king in your absence. Let's drink some more to our victory."

Neither man believed it for a second but as long as Jon left for the Eyrie everything would fall into place. Hoster Tully is a grasping fool and with the Baratheon dynasty's future in question, when the time came for Ned to put his nephew on the throne, he may find himself short on any meaningful resistance. One could only hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you think this was worth the wait.


	8. A wolf on fire and a kraken crawling in the snows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lyanna burns with both vengeance and passion, Asha arrives in the North and makes acquaintances.
> 
> I am sorry for the long delay again, It's just that my GoT fic writing imagination is running on fumes these days.

A heart torn between hatred and love. That is what she was cursed with. She hated, deep and strong. She hates and dreams of all the different ways she would kill him one day. She chose to blame him for all the losses she had suffered, him and the others who are responsible for their deaths.

Rhaegar, sweet and kind, destined to have been the greatest king that Westeros was ever unworthy of having.

Elia, beautiful, fiery and passionate. A woman, who gave her as much love as Rhaegar did. One who never hurt anyone, yet met with such an untimely and undeserved end.

Aegon and Rhaenys, two innocent children who brimmed with life, cut short at the hands of the Stag.

Father and Bran, who died because of the schemes of cowards, who are yet to suffer for what they did.

But suffer, they shall. Robert will die....when the time comes. So will the rest of them.

"Watching you seethe with anger is strange?", a familiar voice spoke to her through crimson hair, which obscured her lovely face.

"How can you possibly tell what I am thinking? Besides, weren't you sleeping?" she countered the redhead's question with one of her own.

The woman, whose head was nudged in-between Lyanna's shoulder and neck, rose from the rather comforting position and cleared her lengthy hair out of her face. The She-wolf gazed at the seductive smile of her witch. "It is easy to read you, my princess. Almost as easy as it is for me to please you."

"Oh, ho, ho.", Lyanna laughed sardonically. "And here I was told that I am a needy woman, with unquenchable lust."

"Whoever gave you that idea?", Mel gasped in obviously faked surprise.

"A certain redhead." _And a certain silverhead but she couldn't bear to think of him now. The time for thoughts of vengeance was only for herself to experience._ It was but a few moons after Lyanna and the children had already established themselves in Winterfell, when Melisandre came to her, speaking of prophesies and what not. What gained Lya's attention was her knowledge of Daeron and Daenerys. 

_The Prince and Princess that were promised shall bring the dawn._

Those words she had head once before. Rheagar's words. Lyanna was never one to fall too deeply about prophesies, but Mel knew of them. All of it. And yet, she had told no one, when it could have benefitted her. She had come to Winterfell, with the knowledge that she may well be killed, in order to safeguard the secret. It is what Ned had proposed himself as a matter of fact.

_"My God has given me a mission to protect the Promised ones. That is why I am here."_

Lyanna had decided to trust her on that. At first, she didn't let her get anywhere near the children, but soon enough she had to. When little Dany was but three, she caught a fever. A child of fire, growing in the land of ice. Or so Melisandre had said. Lya was desperate to save her, so she allowed Melisandre to help. And where the maester had failed, she had succeeded. 

_"I have no power, but the Lord of Light's gifts."_ She had said and strangely enough, Lyanna had believed her. If her god wants to help her children, then who is she to argue?!?

She opened up, slowly, towards the red priestess and eventually words became more than casual. She had spoken of her childhood, of her romance with Rhaegar, of her ills and worries. In time, Melisandre began sharing parts of her own past. Bits and pieces. Melisandre of Asshai had been born into slavery in Volantis. A city, free in name only. Her red hair and beauty had attracted many buyers, but she was taken by an Asshai'i red priestess, who taught her in the ways of the Red god. Then she had been sent back to Volantis, this time to the Red Temple. And then, the High Priestess, a woman named Kinvara, had sent her here. Why, she was not outspoken about. Details, she had left out, but Lyanna had grown to trust her.

As to how that woman ended up in her bed.....ale leads to loss of inhibitions, which Melisandre did not mind at all. Let's just leave it at that. 

So, what if it happens often and without the aid of alcohol.... As long as it keeps her sane. Even if sometimes, she feels crazy with her witch.

"Your brother is going to arrive here later today.", Melisandre informed her most casually. "He is bringing a girl with him."

"Has he tired of Cersei already?", she japed, knowing it must be something else.

"A child of the seas with eight long arms, being dragged inland by a wolf." Mel's visions in the flames were quite useful, though only if you could figure their meaning out before it’s too late. 

"He is bringing a Greyjoy here?" 

"She will have a role in the war to come."

"This castle is turning into a nursery.", Lyanna huffed. "What's her name?"

"I see only important things, you know." she pouted.

"So you can make up a whole fable out of something you see, but you can't tell me a name?"

"Shut up."

"Touched a nerve, huh?"

"You will pay for this Lyanna Stark.", Mel growled but Lya knew her better than that.

"And how exactly will you punish the big bad wolf?"

The redhead crawled downwards and her mouth reached Lyanna's favorite spot. "I will huff and puff and blow you away."

* * *

Asha hated this place. This North. A kingdom it might be, but it was even colder than home. 

_Home._

She hated thinking about that. Never being able to sail a ship, so far away from sea. Strange to thing of it, but she would miss everyone.

Mother - definitely.

Father, who barely acknowledged her existence.

The few childhood friends. Qarl, Tristifer and Alara Pyke, the last of whom on Asha's last nameday, had touched her between the legs as a joke. A feeling, Asha never admitted she liked, but instead broke the girl's nose. 

Her nauseating brothers.....especially Theon, that whiny little shit mine.

King Stark said he would be fine, but.....then again the man had killed a fair amount of her relatives.

 _It was war._ He had said. _A war your father started. If you want to blame someone, blame him._

She blamed him alright. It was easy. She also blamed the two Greenlander kings who destroyed her childhood home, a place she loathed but nonetheless cared about. She hated every single Greenlander who set foot on their islands. She hated the Andals for ever coming into Westeros. She hated the fucking world for messing her life up without Asha having ever done anything to deserve it. 

Fuck everyone.

She was allowed to ride alongside the men, after their ships had landed at Sea Dragon Point. Still, they made sure that she couldn't get away, with her horse being at the front of the column. Usually that would be a mark of respect, but Asha was smart enough to understand that this way she would be immediately discovered if she tried to run away. There was no reason to bother anymore. After her petty attempts of jumping into the sea and swim back home had been prevented, Asha figured that she had no option but to go along with them.

"We are hours away from Winterfell.", the king's steward told her for no reason whatsoever. "Your new home, my lady."

"My cage, you mean.", she snapped at him as she was so used to these days. Where the King of Winter was as easy to anger as a block of ice, his steward was far less so.

"All due respect, my lady, but compared to Winterfell, your islands are a shit pile."

"Thank you for the information, my lord. You are free to go fuck some goat. That's what you Northerners do all day, no?"

"You really will have to work on your attitude, Asha." There was a single man around here, smart enough to realize she hated being called a lady. Without her seeing him, he had made his horse walk slower so they were at more or less the same level.

"King Ned."

"Now that is a title I like. Alas I have a few others.", he said. "Nevertheless, Vaylon was not wrong. Winterfell is not far. Call it a cage, if it makes you feel better, but I promise you it won't be."

"It might be gilded, but a cage is a cage."

"That cage can be your home, if you choose to. Look, I get it. You hate me, possibly the whole world. But if It is not here, then it would be King's Landing. And that place is infinitely worse. People will hurt you only because they can in that snake pit.."

"And at your home? Would it be any different?"

"There will be me, who will say no to that. It's not your fault that your father started his misguided rebellion. However, you will have to bear the consequences."

"And what of me? How long will I stay there?"

"We will see."

"So forever then?", she scoffed.

"No. But one day, when the time is right. When certain things happen."

_What the fuck is that old man talking about?_

She couldn't ask after his words, because he rode back to the head of the procession and they intensified their march. Before long they had reached the bloody castle of the Starks.

Winterfell. The place where winter fell. Sounds ridiculous really, just another fancy story of the Greenlanders to take pride in. The builder of the bloody castle is said to have built that bloody wall they have and some other castles. But then again, the Ironborn had their fair share of stupid stories as well. The Grey king and his children, from whom every Iron Islander descends. The Sea dragon Naga, who might have existed, after all she has seen his bones, big and white and sharp.

The castle itself was nice, though she would never admit it aloud. A massive complex of fancy buildings, nothing too flowery as she had thought of the Greenlanders, but still nice. She had heard Stark say how hot water flowed through the walls to keep the chill away and Asha prayed that was indeed the case. As soon as they marched through the gates, the steward shouted out 'King in the North', blah, blah, blah and then he introduced her.

"This is Lady Asha of House Greyjoy of the Iron Islands. She will be staying with us from now on." _She is our hostage. Try not to spit on her too often._ Was the translation. This is my family. My wife, Queen Cersei, born of House Lannister. _" Who might poison me after what my uncles did to her home._ "My sons Edwyle and Tommen. My daughters Arya and Myrcella. These are my other wards - Jon Snow and Dany."

Asha spared each of them a glance. None of them were older than her, which was good. For her. The blond boy and the blond girl were easy to spot out from the others. The one most peculiar was the only child without a last name - Dany. She had silver hair, which shouldn't have been possible. _Can't be a Targaryen. Must be from Essos, Lys perhaps. But what the fuck is a Lysene doing here?_

After all that theatrics was over, Asha jumped down from her horse,(because why the fuck would she need someone's help for that?!), and followed the servants inside. 

An old crone of a servant led her inside and into what apparently were to be her bedchambers. "These are your quarters, my lady." And after a two men brought in her belongings, she was left alone. The room was not half bad. In fact, though she won't admit it to her hosts, it was larger and better than the one on Pyke. It was quite spacious, had a rug, a table and chairs, a nice feathered bed, windows.....

_Staying here won't be the worst thing in the world._

Asha opened her trunk. It was full of warm clothes that her mother had left for her, but there was more than that. Three things were packed there that she wouldn't go without. 

The first thing she got out was _"A land of ten thousand kings. OR: A History of the Ironborn by Archmaester Haerreg"._ Asha was not one for books, just like her father on that account, but her mother had gifted that one to her in secret and despite herself, she had forced herself to start reading it. Soon enough, she realized she liked reading it and often reread some chapters. It was written by the only Ironborn to ever join the Citadel and was probably the only unbiased book about the Iron Islands written in the Seven Kingdoms. 

What Asha got out next was a carefully concealed dagger, with a squid on its hilt. The only gift she has ever received from her father. _Still sharp. And always needed._

The third thing was a bracelet made from some stones. Crude and not something Asha would ever wear, but she had kept it after Theon had gifted it to her. The boy had put some effort into making it, even though she had made a show of throwing it into the sea immediately after. It was a mean act, but well deserved. A stupid bracelet ain't enough to apologize for tossing the bow, her uncle Victarion had gifted her just the previous day, into the sea. That little show was Theon's punishment, infinitely better than drowning him in her view, but she kept the bracelet with her. 

_And to think I might never see them again._

No, she couldn't let them see her miserable. She was Asha Greyjoy, the Kraken's Daughter. She was not afraid of some wolves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you liked my Asha. I prefer that name to the one in the show, because it reminds me of Baba Yaga, a which from Slavic folklore. 
> 
> Anyways, any ideas who to pair her with? I am taking ideas.

**Author's Note:**

> Well what do you think? Please comment and leave kudos. This is what inspires me to continue writing my stories and give birth to new ideas.


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